Alternative Black
by wandering-writer38
Summary: Rather than hunting Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, Hermione returns to Hogwarts as a spy. While trying to keep all her friends safe, both inside and outside the school, she makes many new allies. Some characters have made a drastic change of allegiance. Not only will Hermione have to fight on the battlefield, but she will wage war with her heart. Eventual Bellamione.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - I own no part of the _Harry_ _Potter_ franchise and make no profit from this fanfic. It's all for fun. **

**Welcome to an alternative ending to the fantastic series _Harry Potter. _The story takes up more or less at the beginning of the seventh book (and movies). I incorporate scenes from both the movies and the books (why not?) and used some direct dialogue (I own nothing). Other events are entirely my own invention and some of these have had a profound effect on some of the characters. What if one moment, one event happened and changed the entire course of a character's life? Would they still be good? Would they still be evil? This story develops that theme. Enjoy!**

Low afternoon light filtered through the open window illuminating the bedroom that had been hers for over seventeen years. For all that time, this room had been a sanctuary and the house her palace. Looking around, so many memories passed through her mind. How many books had she read here? She shook her head; too many to count, surely. How many drawings had she hung on these pale purple walls? She had worked on her homework at the little desk in the corner. She played with the dollhouse beneath the small windowsill. Her clothes used to hang in the little closet behind the door. Now, however, the closet was completely empty save for a few items in boxes she had no use for.

This had been where she had come after she received her letter from Professor McGonagall. How excited she had been that night! She laid here awake for hours imagining her new school. A school of _magic. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _Remembering felt more like a dream. She had, of course, begged her parents for every book in Diagon Alley and read all of them before boarding the Hogwarts Express off of platform 9 ¾ on September first.

She remembered the first ride, her first friends – real friends – Harry, Ron, and then Ginny and Neville and Luna… she sat in here and wrote letters to each of them during the summers away from that magical world she now belonged to.

Sad brown eyes gazed out her single window. Outside, the world was gray. The sky was overcast and a light drizzle fell down onto the wet, black pavement of her quiet little suburban street. She saw not a soul outside, which was quite uncommon for the middle of summer. Normally, children would be running up and down the street yelling to each other or racing bikes or eating ice creams on the curb.

But everyone felt the change since _he_ had revealed himself, even the Muggles. You-Know-Who – _Voldemort, _she reminded herself sternly – had finally shown himself to the Wizarding World.

She scanned her room one last time, double; triple checking that she hadn't forgotten anything important. All that was left out of place was a simple, little, beaded bag on her bed. Completely inconspicuous, a perfect place to keep all of her belongings.

"Hermione, darling, tea is ready!"

"Coming, Mum!" she tried to hide how her voice cracked. _Be strong, Hermione. You're a Gryffindor for heaven's sake! _

With a heavy sigh, Hermione shouldered her little bag. Upon closing the door, she cast a long-lasting glamor charm over the frame. It shimmered, almost as if a waterfall had poured down in front of it and then it was gone, vanished.

Downstairs, Hermione could hear her parents discussing the trip to Australia they planned to take over August, just before Hermione had to be back to start her seventh and final year of school.

She crept quietly down the stairs, passing pictures she'd seen hundreds of times before. Pictures of her as a baby, at two years old and dressed for Halloween – as a ladybug, she had always found them to be cute little insects – there were pictures of her and her parents on their trip to London, of her parents' wedding, her first-grade school play… most of her life could be viewed from just a short climb up these stairs. None of their pictures moved, however, unlike the ones she kept in a small album from the months she spent at Hogwarts. Those pictures and a few special muggle photos were tucked safely away in her bag. She stepped off the last step and stood in her family's sitting room. Her parents sat on the couch, her mother pouring tea for herself and her father.

_I can't do this… they won't know me… _she hastily wiped away a traitorous tear from her cheek and pulled out her wand. With a shaky hand, she raised the tip of the magical instrument level to the back of her parents' heads. _Deep breath… _she steeled her nerves, pulling all of her courage forth and forcing it into the hand holding her wand. The appendage steadied itself.

"_Obliviate." _The tip of her wand began to glow as the magic if she were manually pulling the memories from her parents, she twisted her hand and pulled back, as she had been secretly practicing in her room for the past couple weeks.

Their conversation came to a halt and Hermione was glad she couldn't see the blank stares that had come over their faces. More tears welled in her eyes and her vision blurred. As she blinked them clear, she cast a last glance at the pictures they kept around the room. As she watched, she vanished. Every one of the pictures she was in shimmered and altered, her image disappearing right before her eyes.

Passing a hand over her face, she cast another spell, this one implanting false memories, memories of a life without her and the overwhelming urge to move to Australia as soon as possible. She made sure that two plane tickets were on the table in front of them and the third in the trash. Then she left. She closed the front door behind her and walked down her quiet suburban street in the misty rain until she came to a small catwalk that led to the park where she used to play with the few Muggle friends she had before starting at Hogwarts. She stepped through and when she was sure she was out of sight, stopped.

Wand in hand, she turned on the spot and Disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Some dialogue is taken from **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1**_**. I do not own any part of the **_**Harry Potter**_** franchise and use these bits of dialogue to bring my story closer to the world imagined by J. K. Rowling and WB Studios. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

Hermione's feet hit solid ground and she stumbled, still not entirely used to wizarding travel. She looked up at the dark house in front of her. Number four Privet Drive. She'd never seen Harry's house before. It was nice, from what she could tell. It kind of reminded her of home. She felt a pang of longing in her chest and willed away the prickling in the corners of her eyes.

"Move along, Granger," said a gruff voice from behind her, accentuated with the heavy _thunk _of Moody's walking stick.

Shaking herself, Hermione stepped up to the back door of the house. _Harry's not going to like this… _

Behind her, Moody, Ron, Dora, Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Mundungus – all of whom she had used the Portkey with – trudged through the neatly trimmed grass as Bill, Fleur, and Kingsley landed with two Thestrals and Hagrid with his flying motorbike. She was thankful Kingsley had thought to cast a Silencing Charm on the bike, knowing full well that Hagrid was not one to trust with stealth.

Inside, Hermione was not surprised to find everything in pristine order, as if the house was ready for the Dursleys to return back any moment.

Harry met them in the living room, his face set in a grim mask as everyone was briskly shuffled into the room by Moody. Hermione shared a brief hug with her best friend before moving along, allowing the others to greet the young man of the hour.

"Quiet everyone! We'll have time for a cozy catch up later," Moody growled, limping to the front of the room. Immediately, thirteen pairs of eyes looked to the senior Auror. "Potter, you're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on ya," he said as his magical eye swivelled around to gaze out the window at his back.

"Trace what –"

"The Trace means that if you sneeze the Ministry will be there to know who wipes your nose. Which means we have to use transportation that the Ministry can't detect. Brooms, Thestrals, the like. We'll go in pairs, that way if anyone's out there – and I reckon there will be – they won't know which Harry Potter is the real one."

Hermione listened as Moody briefly explained their plan, excluding for the moment the key details they knew Harry wouldn't like. By the look on Harry's face, their prediction had been correct. Not that he had much of a say, of course. They knew Harry's heart was too big to willingly risk their safety, but regardless, they had a plan B, just in case.

"The real one?" Harry asked, clearly puzzled.

With a sly grin stretched across his scarred face, Moody reached into his pocket and extracted a very familiar flask. "I believe you are well acquainted with this particular brew."

"NO!" Harry shouted instantly, eyes wide behind his round glasses. "Absolutely not!"

"Told you he'd take it well," Hermione quipped from behind his shoulder, slightly irritated by her friend's gallantry and lack of practicality.

"I'm not letting everyone risk their lives for me –"

"Haven't done that before, have we?" Ron said with a small chuckle. Prior to the mission, they had discussed the unlikely possibility of Harry's willingness to comply. Despite the warm feelings they both held for their best friend, the two of them agreed that Harry's biggest fault was perhaps his most redeeming quality – utter selflessness.

"No, this is different! I mean, taking that – becoming me –"

"Well, none of us really fancy it mate."

"Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we wound up being a scrawny speky git for_ever!" _Fred and George pipped in jokingly.

"Everyone here is of age, Potter. They've all agreed to take the risk."

Hermione thought Moody was being surprisingly understanding of Harry's moral predicament. In Harry's place, Hermione would struggle as well, as she imagined most everyone would, but seeing how pressed for time they were, Hermione wished they could move along. The sooner they each reached their respective Portkeys, the sooner she would be able to breathe freely, knowing that everyone was safe at The Burrow with Mrs. Weasley's late-night snacks stuffed in their bellies.

From the back, a wheezing cough sounded as the least savory member of their group spoke up. "Technically, I have been coerced. Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. Potter, always been a huge admirer." The little wizard introduced himself in his smarmy manner. Hermione could neither understand why he was here nor shake the feeling of discomfort at being around him. She supposed his unwashed appearance and his reputation as a thief and liar put a foul taste in her mouth.

"Nip it, Mundungus!" Moody barked. "Alright, Granger, as discussed."

_About bloody time… _swiftly, Hermione tore a chunk of messy black hair from the back of Harry's head as she passed him on her way to Moody and the waiting Polyjuice Potion.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry gasped in pain.

She carefully dropped the hairs into the potion and watched as it bubbled and fizzed, turning from a sickly mud-colour to a bright green that reminded her of smashed peas. All those who planned to drink the potion lined up, Hermione with them at the end of the cue beside Ron.

"For those of you who haven't taken Polyjuice Potion before, fair warning, it tastes like goblin piss."

Each of them took a sip of the potion, everyone gagging as they each found out in turn how accurate Moody's description had been. Hermione watched in awe as everyone transformed before her eyes. Fred and George each shrunk a good foot as Dung grew a few inches. Hermione would have laughed as she watched Fleur's beautiful face shift and become rounder if she had not felt her own skin begin to bubble and shift as her body transfigured itself into the spitting image of one of her best friends. This time felt different, she remarked, remembering her second-year experience with Polyjuice Potion. Transforming into another human wasn't quite as horrible as growing a tail and a body full of fur.

"Wow! We're identical!" the twins exclaimed in unison as Moody dumped the prepared bundle of seven identical outfits onto the floor. They all undressed, Hermione more than a little mortified by the shameless display of Harry's body. She felt her – or Harry's – cheeks flame as they all stripped and tried her best to keep her eyes averted from the several bodies. One day, perhaps, they would all look back on this and laugh at the absurdity and utter ridiculousness of the situation. Perhaps one day she would not blush at the memory of seeing Harry's… well… _everything! _Secretly, she congratulated Ginny on her choice of boyfriend.

Once all the Harrys were dressed, they made their way outside to where they had left their various means of transportation. As previously instructed, Hermione followed Kingsley to their shared Thestral, saddened by the reason why she could now _see _the skeletal creature, but glad she would not have to ride a ruddy broom.

Kingsley graciously offered her a leg up, which she gratefully accepted. Once he was seated as well, she wrapped her arms securely around the man's waist and watched as everyone partnered up and prepared themselves for whatever would lie ahead.

"Ready, Miss Granger?" Kingsley asked, his deep, calm voice soothing her jittery nerves.

"Yes," she replied with a nod. Her hand tightened around her wand as she mentally listed everything she had learned about duelling and which spells would be most effective during a mid-flight duel, should they be attacked.

_Perhaps I should have studied more before this… will the Thestral throw us off if it's startled?_

"Do not fear, Miss Granger, this is not the first time I've ridden a Thestral. I will be able to control her."

"How did you –"

Hermione felt the man's deep chuckle rumble through his chest. "You're squeezing a little tighter than necessary."

She quickly apologizing and loosened her hold. She was sure her – _Harry's – _face must be scarlet. _Be a Gryffindor! Come on now! _

And suddenly they were off. The Thestral climbed quickly through the sky and soon they were consumed by the low hanging clouds that blocked out all celestial light. She felt the short hair on her head grow damp and her clothes begin to stick to her from the dampness in the air.

And then suddenly as the world had disappeared, it reappeared once more and she could see through the night. Her heart jumped into her throat and she wished they had stayed in the cloud cover. In every direction she looked, there were Death Eaters.

"We've been betrayed!" Kingsley yelled as he urged the Thestral on through the volley of spells and hexes.

Wand instinctively at the ready, Hermione shot off a _Stupefy _at the nearest cluster of Death Eaters.

"Granger, cover us! I need both hands to steer her through this!"

"Right!" she said, conjuring a Shield Charm and deflecting a curse from a Death Eater she recognised from the Ministry – Travers – and then hitting him square in the chest, tossing him from his broom.

Red, blue, green, and a horrible looking yellow jets of light zoomed passed them as they surged forward, the animal's wings flapping furiously to outfly the Death Eaters on brooms.

"_Impedimenta! Patrificus Totalus!" _Hermione felt sweat on her brow despite the frigid air. Her breath began to come out in tiny clouds of steam each time she exhaled and a chill settled throughout her body. As they flew, Hermione felt the chill intensify, becoming something bone-deep that turned her stomach and clasped her heart in an icy hand. _We're going to die… we can't do this I can't do this I'mgoingtofailgoingtofailgoingtodie – _

"Dementors!" Kingsley yelled and Hermione, shaken from her panic, saw the Death Eaters on their tail fall back as the black, spectral figures gathered. "Hold on!" Kingsley fished his wand from his robes and took aim at what Hermione had initially thought to be a dark rain cloud. "_Expecto Patronum!" _A silvery lynx made of light and happiness burst from the tip of his wand and chased away the hoard of cloaked figures, creating a clear path for them to fly through unharmed and less affected.

However, the Death Eaters took advantage of the wizard's powerful Patronus and used the path created by the feline to follow them still further through the sky.

"There's too many!" Hermione yelled. Natural panic settled in her heart, replacing the feeling of helplessness caused by the Dementors. She continued to deflect the spells thrown at them. "_Stupefy!" _She tried not to feel the little twinge of guilt another man was thrown off his broom and fell through the clouds below, presumably to his death.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a dark shape begin to take form. It began as a cloud – a black, incorporeal cloud coming out of the night sky. All the other Death Eaters immediately evaded the space the shape took up. Then, out of the smoky blackness that morphed into billowing robes, Hermione saw a face.

"IT'S HIM!" she shrieked, too terrified to be ashamed of the pitch of her voice. _This is it, _Hermione thought in fear, _at least Harry will be safe… _

"Hold on!" Kingsley forced the Thestral into evasive flying, spiralling through the freezing wind as they dodged the volleys from the Death Eaters as the Dark Lord himself followed them with ease through the air.

Terror seized Hermione's mind as her eyes met Lord Voldemort's and she conjured the strongest Shield Charm she could manage as he raised the wand he held between long, deathly pale fingers.

And then suddenly, those red eyes flared darker and she lost sight of Voldemort's snake-like face in his billowing robes made of darkness.

"_It's not him – another fake! Finish them!" _She heard him roar, his voice echoing through the air as he disappeared from the sky.

_NO, HARRY! _

"DUCK!"

Obediently, Hermione lowered her head just in time to miss a red jet of light – a Cruciatus Curse – flying over their heads.

Hermione turned in the direction of their attacker. The witch's dark, curly hair whipped behind her as she sped after them on her broom, her pale face sporting a bone-chilling grin as the witch raised her wand and shot off another curse. Her black cloak billowed around her thin frame like the ghostly bodies of the Dementors as she pulled up beside their Thestral. Hermione almost wished the dark creatures would return to chase away this most notorious and wicked Death Eater.

The witch locked eyes with Hermione; the brunette forced herself to glare back and not show the fear she felt deep inside. Hermione wasn't positive which frightened her most – the wand pointed directly at her and Kingsley or the cold, cruel gaze with which the dark-haired witch fixed the young woman. Hermione remembered those eyes from the night at the Ministry; the night this witch killed Sirius.

"Black!" Kingsley gasped as he finally caught sight of the woman steadily gaining on them.

"_Stupefy! Incarcerous! _ _Confringo!" _Hermione shot off every curse and hex she could think of at the Death Eater, but she was hardly a match. The witch expertly deflected each of her spells and sent more curses directly at Hermione's back.

"_PROTEGO!" _

"Hold on, we're about to cross the barrier!"

Hermione felt a tightening in her gut that then spread through her entire body – like she was being squeezed through the hole of a straw – until she felt her head would implode, and then suddenly, just as quickly as it has begun, everything was normal. Taking a deep breath and re-expanding her lungs, Hermione dared a glance behind them, only to find the sky completely clear of Death Eaters.

"We're here." She heard Kingsley say as he brought the Thestral down to a soft landing on solid earth. Neither of them waisted much time before jumping off and taking a few steps and some several moments to gather themselves.

"That was…"

"Yes, it was. But he's gone now; she's gone; they all are. Hermione, you fought brilliantly! You are truly a fantastic witch, thank you."

Hermione blushed at the praise. The fact that it came from Kingsley, an amazing wizard and Auror in his own right, resonated deeper in her than any other time someone called her a wonderful or talented witch.

Clearing her throat, Hermione looked around them. She had no idea where they had landed. "Where are we?"

"This is the home of Order member Hestia Jones. She is currently away with the Dursleys, but she allowed us to use her home as a safe house for our Portkey to The Borrow," Kingsley explained as he walked around the rather unkept and overgrown yard. As he searched for the hidden Portkey, Hermione felt her skin return to its natural form and wrapped herself in the now-slightly-too-big jacket.

Her companion made a small sound of victory when he finally found what he'd been searching for. "Here," he called Hermione over to where he was kneeling in front of a small, beaten looking garden gnome.

Hermione crouched low beside him and waited as he rose, lifting a finger in response to her raised eyebrow, and strolled over to set their faithful Thestral free to fly back to the Forbidden Forest.

"Good to see _you_ again, Miss Granger," he said with a smile lighting his impossibly dark, warm eyes. "Ready?" he asked as he crouched beside her once more.

Hermione nodded. Together, they placed their hands on the gnome and Hermione felt the sickening sensation of being pulled by her navel through a tornado, through a wormhole.

When their feet hit ground once more, Hermione was grateful for Kingsley's steady hand on her shoulder and she gave him a small smile of thanks.

Her eyes instantly scanned the yard for a sign of anyone having returned. She saw Hagrid and Mr. Weasley by the house as Lupin and Kingsley identified each other. Her eyes finally settled on Harry – the real Harry – and she rushed to him and launched herself into his arms.

"Thank God you're alright!" she exclaimed, burying her face in her best friend's shoulder.

"You too," Harry said against her bushy mane. "I don't know what I'd do if you… or Ron… George was hurt, got his ear cut off…"

"But he'll be alright."

"Yeah," Harry said, completely un-reassured.

"Has Ron –"

"There he is!"

Hermione turned to see Ron morphing back into his tall, gangly, ginger self as he strode towards the house with Dora.

"Ron!" Hermione grinned as she threw herself into the arms of her other best friend.

Now, with her friends on either arm, Hermione allowed herself to breathe more easily and the three of them made their way to the house.


	3. Chapter 3

"_NO!" a woman screamed. "You can't! Please!"_

"_What's this…" a man's disgusted voice is hissed out from between clenched teeth. A red light… _

"_Come, children, this is what happens to blood traitors…" says the eerily calm voice of a man. A monster. "CRUCIO!"_

"_AHHHHHH!" the woman screams as she's tortured on the floor, tears stain her face, agony written in every line. Then the screaming stops. The woman stares up, unseeing, empty eyes, pale lips tinged with blood whispering two words… _

"_Kill me…" _

"_You see, children, I am a merciful Lord…" a flash of green… _

"NO!" Bellatrix screamed as she flew into a sitting position on her bed, hand readily pointing her wand at the entrance to her bedroom. A tired sigh escaped red lips as her shoulders sagged in exhaustion. _Bloody nightmares… _she settled back under her covers, her wand on the bedside table within reach, deciding against one of her many sleeping droughts for the time being. Just as she began to get comfortable once more, she heard the sound that must have pulled her from her dream.

There was an incessant pounding on the door to her private chambers. Groaning, she pressed one of her many pillows over her head, praying that whoever it is isn't stupid enough to keep pounding on the door of the intimidating Professor Black in the middle of the night.

The pounding sounded again, this time even louder than before.

"Grrraaaaa!" she growled as she slipped out from beneath the warm sheets and her feet touched the freezing hardwood. Grabbing her robe and pulling it over her nightgown, she shuffled begrudgingly to the door, swearing under her breath the entire way.

"Who the fucking hell would be here now… What?" she grumbled as she yanked the door open, hoping to scare someone enough to wet their pants.

As her luck would have it, she was disappointed.

"Bellatrix," a stern voice greeted her from the other side of the threshold.

"Minerva, do you know what bloody time it is!"

"I am well aware of the hour, Miss Black, but this simply could not wait."

"UHG, enough with the '_Miss Black'_ crap, you make it sound as though I'm a student again," Bellatrix groaned as she pulled the door open wider, allowing the older professor entrance into her private chambers.

"Perhaps if you possessed the attitude of a professor instead of a student, I would treat you accordingly," McGonagall remarked with a lifted brow as she entered the sitting room. Bellatrix shut the door behind her.

"When it's this early in the bloody morning I have a right to be a little cranky," Bellatrix replied as she fell backward onto the black loveseat by the fireplace. With a casual flick of her wand, flames roared to life in the hearth, lighting the room and beginning to take the chill out of her frozen feet. "You want to tell me why you're here, risking your life waking me in the dead of night?" She waved a hand to one of the armchairs and McGonagall nodded her thanks and sat down.

"I assume you remember what the plans were for tonight?" McGonagall asked, her eyes cast to the flames.

"Yeah, the others were bringing Potter to The Burrow tonight."

"You seem highly unconcerned."

"Will you just tell me, already? I didn't think I would have to pry out the details from you, seeing as it was so urgent you had to pound on my door before it was light!"

"Watch your tongue!" the older witch snapped, eyes flashing at Bellatrix before gazing back at the flames.

Bellatrix said nothing, simply folded her arms over her chest and scrunched her face in annoyance. Eventually, the woman would get to it. But Bellatrix was hardly what one would call a patient woman.

"I just received an update via Patronus from Kingsley. Potter is safe at The Burrow," the head of Gryffindor finally said.

"Well that's good, so it all went according to plan."

"Not… quite."

Bellatrix straightened at the strained tone in McGonagall's voice. She had always been impressed at how the witch could always look so powerful and composed, no matter the situation – not that she would admit to any such admiration out loud – but now, Bellatrix found that the woman sitting across from her looked… old and tired.

It only lasted a moment, but it was enough for Bella to appreciate the seriousness of the woman's next words.

"Alastor is dead. Killing curse by V-Voldemort himself."

All the air left Bella's lungs. "Holy shit." _Bugger, _she thought, shaking her head, _I'm going to miss that old nut. _She swallowed. "Anyone else?" she asked as she rose and walked over to glass decanter on her desk in the corner and filled two tumblers with the amber coloured Firewiskey.

"Mundungus vanished, the coward. George Weasley was hit by a curse that took off one of his ears, but he will be fine." She politely took the offered glass and held it delicately in her hands.

In one gulp, Bellatrix finished her glass and stared unseeing into its empty bottom. "And – "

"Yes, Nymphadora is fine. She and the others made it back perfectly safe."

"Okay, good." Bellatrix released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and refilled her drink. She stayed silent for a few moments, lost in thought. "She's pregnant, you know," she said finally, swirling the liquid in her glass. "She just told me last week. Didn't want her going on this mission in the first place… the werewolf backed me up, too. But she's always been stubborn…" She took a sip of liquid fire.

"I didn't know," Minerva answered, eyes wide with surprise. "Be sure to pass along my congratulations."

Bellatrix nodded and both professors stared at the flames, holding their drinks.

"Well… I will leave you to the rest of your night, then. I simply wanted to reassure you that Potter was safe and the others…" McGonagall nodded to herself and rose from her seat, placing her empty tumbler on the table – Bellatrix had not even realised that the other woman had actually finished the drink.

The raven-haired woman nodded, messy curls bobbing around her face. What were they going to do now? It was Moody who came up with most of the plans since Dumbledore died… the rest of the Order followed his lead. Kingsley would probably step up, he's leader quality enough. She shook her head. They're losing far too many members to do much good… even Hogwarts has fallen to the Dark Lord's power with Snape as Headmaster.

"Minerva?"

"Yes, Bellatrix?" the woman answered, halfway through the open door.

"What do we do now?"

There was a heavy sigh, and Bellatrix could imagine the woman removing her spectacles to rub her tired eyes. "I'm sure Mr. Potter has some sort of plan, something Albus has left him to do… couldn't have bloody told anyone else, though…"

Bella chuckled at the frustration in the witch's voice. Must have been some secret if even Dumbledore's right-hand woman didn't know what it was. She sighed. He had always been a cracked old man, even while she had been a student here, however many years ago that was. "Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, Bellatrix."

Bella heard the door close softly. She stood there, in the middle of her sitting room staring at the flames until morning shone through her windows, alerting her it would soon be time for breakfast, which the house-elves would deliver here since there were would be no students to feed in the Great Hall for another month yet.

With numb feet, Bellatrix padded over to her bathroom and turned the shower on, steam soon filling the tiny room and fogging the mirror. The witch climbed into the shower and hissed as the hot water scalded her body and chased away her chill. _Damn it! _A surprisingly strong fist struck the wall of her shower, cracking the tiles; the sharp edges cutting into her hand. _How long will it take them now? With Moody gone… how many of us are actually left?_

Once more, Bellatrix simply stood still as a statue, letting the hot water run over her body and thaw her from the shock of losing their most powerful member and her old mentor. An hour must have gone by before she finally decided her skin had pruned enough and she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower.

Wrapped in one of her fuzzy bath towels, and with tiny rivers of water running down her skin from her hair, Bellatrix watched the early morning sunlight reflecting off the Black Lake. She squinted; the reflecting sunlight like piercing stars dancing over the surface of the dark water.

_Potter better have a clue of what to do… _she grumbled internally. As much as Dumbledore trusted the boy, Bellatrix could not imagine what a seventeen-year-old could do against the most powerful dark wizard of their era. And with such friends as the Weasleys… she shook her head. No. They were all doomed to die or slowly rot away, powerless under this dictatorship. The only chance those boys had of not dying in the first month of school would be if the Granger girl was strong enough to keep those two idiots out of trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N Hello, all. I've received several confused reviews as to Bellatrix's allegiance. In chapter two, during the battle in the sky, I never say it was Bella chasing after them. SPOILERS: It is not Bella. _Black _is Andromeda. In the summary, I said a few characters have changed sides i.e. Bellatrix and Andromeda have switched places, in a way. I'm not going to explain how or why this happened yet (it's fully explained in later chapters). I apologise for the confusion, I was experimenting with their resemblance (in the books their looks are nearly identical) and attempting to create suspense. I hope this appeases some of you. I hope you enjoy the story. **

Hermione sat on one of the many landings on the long staircase in The Burrow, watching the sky lighten outside the tall window. The sun had just started to peek over the distant hills surrounding The Burrow and a golden glow filled the scene. Other members had finally begun to leave; Remus and Dora having left before dawn and Kingsley just finishing a conversation with Mr. Wealsey. No one had been to bed yet. Hermione had escaped the business of downstairs soon after the general debriefing was finished, once everyone had returned. Mad-Eye was dead. Dung had vanished. George lost his ear. But Harry was safe.

Hermione understood that, logically, the mission had been a success. Harry was safe here with most of them and now they were free and safe from the prying eyes of the Death Eaters and could plan their next move.

Harry had spoken to her and Ron about the Horcruxes Dumbledore told him about. He wanted to go out hunting them as soon as possible. In fact, earlier during the night while she had been hiding on the stairs, Hermione had seen Harry stalk off into the night, his rucksack in one hand and his wand in the other. Immediately she had leaped to her feet, ready to charge out the door before her friend could stupidly disappear on them and the entire mission turned out to be for naught.

To her surprise and relief, she then spotted Ron run after the dark-haired boy. From her perch high up in The Burrow tower, she watched the two boys argue – she could tell by Ron's flailing arms and the squaring of Harry's shoulders that it was indeed a heated argument between them. Then finally, Harry hung his head and nodded, and both boys returned to the house.

Lost in her own thoughts, Hermione did not hear the heavy footfalls climbing the stairs behind her sometime later.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione, Kingsley's saying that you dueled Black! That true?"

Hermione jumped at the proximity of Ron's loud voice and then rolled her eyes at her own inattentiveness and skittish behaviour. She'll have to work on that with more and more Death Eaters running around the Wizarding World unchecked.

"I guess so," she mumbled sleepily, rubbing the grogginess from her face.

"Blimey…" The ginger boy sat down beside her and leaned back against the railing. "I got to shoot off a couple spells at a Lestrange, but that's not the same… _Black!_" Ron chuckled and shook his head disbelievingly."She's one of the worst. She was a complete nutter that night at the Ministry. A deadly nutter!"

"We had You-Know… I mean, Voldemort after us for a while as well," Hermione said, a little bubble of laughter escaping at the look of bewilderment on the youngest Weasley boy's face.

"You… you fought – You-Know-Who!"

"Relax, Ronald, Harry does it all the time," Hermione laughed and bumped his shoulder playfully.

"Yeah but… he's _Harry, _and you're – you're _Hermione! _You don't fight, you read and –"

"I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a duel, Ronald Weasley!"

"No, I know, it's just –"

"There you are."

Hermione and a beet red Ron looked up to see Harry standing above them, a serious and determined look on his face. This was a look Hermione had been seeing more and more frequently since the last night of the Triwizard Tournament.

"We need to talk."

"Sure, mate," Ron said, rising to his feet. He offered Hermione a hand up and the three of them made a beeline for his room at the top of the stairs.

Hermione followed more slowly, unsure if she was ready for another Serious Harry Talk, but she knew better than to refuse the Boy-Who-Lived when he was in such a mood.

They settled in their usual position, a triangle around the little cauldron they used as a fire-pit. Hermione conjured a little flame and watched it dance in mid-air above the rim.

Hermione and Ron watched Harry expectantly, yet with polite patience. Their friend would speak when he was ready.

Hermione closed her eyes. _Will I ever get a good night's sleep again, _she wondered to herself. She thought of the last time she had slept well through the night. _Must have been while I was still at home… when Mum and Dad still knew me… when I still had parents…_

Hermione's eyes flew open and she wiped a hand over her face once more. _Let's not think about that. _

"I'm going out to search for the Horcruxes," Harry said suddenly. Hermione watched the light of her little flame reflecting off the lenses of his round glasses. He was just as tired as she was. They all were.

"Yeah, we know, mate."

"We've agreed to go with you – we want to! All of us are going to find the Horcruxes, together," Hermione said determined, placing a comforting hand on Harry's knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"Actually, Ron and I have been talking…"

"Oh?" The brunette raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And what, may I ask, have you two been discussing?" _Since when do the two of them have secrets?_

"We thought that… it might be more… practical, if you continued on at Hogwarts instead of coming with us to hunt the Horcruxes," Harry stumbled for words he thought Hermione would respect and understand, attempting to appeal to her logical mind. But he knew, of course, when he saw the fire in the witch's eyes, that no matter what words he used, there was no preventing the outrage of the young woman.

"WHAT? Why? Ron, you agreed to this?" she rounded on the terrified looking red-head, who was always at a loss for words when encountered with a very angry Hermione.

"We thought it would be smart to have a clear head inside Hogwarts keeping an eye on things," Harry explained, praying for a miracle, that Hermione would agree with their plan. "Snape's Headmaster now, 'Mione, we need someone to watch him and keep everyone in the school safe from the Death Eaters that will be around."

"Ginny can do that," Hermione argued.

"Ginny will be watched like a hawk – her entire family is in the Order – she'll need help."

"They'll be suspicious of me as well! I'm one of Harry Potter's closest friends –"

"Dad says the Ministry's ordered a mandate obligating all students to resume their term at Hogwarts like normal. Not that it's been said, but Muggle-borns especially," Ron said in a small voice, still terrified Hermione would yell at him again

"If anyone asks, tell them that you wanted to finish your education and that a dictatorship wouldn't scare you away from your books," Harry suggested in a tone that was half serious, half joking.

Hermione's brow settled into a deep frown. She didn't like this at all, but Harry did have a point, as much as she hated to admit it. She would be able to do more research from the school and relay any news she overheard back to them. She'd have access to the school library, to professors… "And what about Ron? I'm sure they'll want all Weasleys accounted for as well."

"We've dressed up the ghoul from the attic to look like me," Ron explained, his chest puffing out just a little with pride. "Everyone will think that I've stayed home sick with Spattergroit. No one will want to check and make sure that it's actually a human dressed in pyjamas sleeping in my bed."

Hermione hid her shock at Ron's obviously well thought-out plan. "Very well," she said, refusing to admit she was impressed. "How will we communicate? It wouldn't be smart to write back and forth using owls – I'm sure many owls will be intercepted now that Snape's Headmaster."

Ron and Harry shared a look, one she recognized from whenever she asked them if they had finished their homework. It was a shared look of half guilt and ill planning.

"We, uh, haven't quite thought that one through yet," Harry admitted sheepishly.

With something that was part sigh and half groan, Hermione lifted herself off the floor. "It looks like I have some homework to do then. But first, I think we should all get some sleep."

Both boys grinned at her and her heart swelled. She would miss them and worry constantly for their safety. She would have to find a very stealthy method of two-way communication for them and she already had an idea of in which book to begin her research. But first, she was positive she heard her cot in Ginny's room calling her name.

* * *

Hermione plodded into the crowded Weasley kitchen just as Mrs. Weasley was serving up breakfast. Before taking her seat across from Harry and Ron, Hermione dropped two identical journals onto the table in front of the boys.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!" Ron garbled out around a mouthful of eggs and toast. He swallowed. "I know I tried in our third year, but I really don't want to read your diaries."

"Don't be silly, Ronald," she retorted. She took her seat and spooned scrambled eggs onto her plate. "These are what we will be using to communicate while I'm in Hogwarts."

"Well, how does it work?" Harry asked, taking the first of the journals and flipping through it.

"Think of it like the coins we used for Dumbledore's Army. We can both write in our journals and it will appear in the other. It's more commonly known as the Copy-Cat Spell," Hermione explained, demonstrating with the self-inking quill she brought down with her.

_You see?_

She wrote. Then she opened the second journal to the same page and found her words written exactly the same.

"Wicked!" Ron grinned, taking both quill and notebook to do his own experimenting.

"It kind of reminds me of Tom Riddle's diary. Not too fond of that…" Harry said sceptically.

"To be honest, he did provide a little inspiration," Hermione said, brimming with pride at her ingenious idea. "I thought it was ironic – using Voldemort's old tricks to help us defeat him."

"I think it's brilliant, 'Mione!" Ron admired, still busily scribbling in the journals.

"But, what if someone finds it? Hermione, they could find out everything – "

"_Evanesco scriptura," _Hermione said, tapping her wand to the words she and Ron wrote in the first book. Instantly, the words vanished. "_Revelio scriptura," _she said and tapped her wand to the page once more and everything reappeared, exactly as it had been before.

"Brilliant!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Ronald! You get down here right now! Your father and brothers need help in the yard!"

"Yeah, Mum! Come on, you lot, I'm not going down to hell on my own," Ron grumbled, plodding down the stairs with Hermione and Harry in tow. It was three days until Bill and Fleur's wedding and the Weasley house was in full uproar.

Mrs. Weasley was a whirlwind of preparations; hardly taking a breath or a moment to relax. Her most recent philosophy: if you have time to talk, you have time to chop, sweep, dust, and garden, to chase out gnomes, tie ribbons, and make sure you were presentable enough for the new in-laws. She often had Ginny and Hermione working inside with her and the boys outside, much to the trio's dismay, given that they still had much to discuss before Hermione's return to Hogwarts and the boys' hunt for the Horcruxes.

Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, along with their second daughter, Gabrielle, would arrive two days prior to the wedding, and now Mrs. Weasley was more avid than ever to keep up the house.

"Hermione, dear, those carrots are much too large. Smaller disks, please. Ginny, I asked for bows around the napkins, not knots!"

"Mum, can't we just use magic?"

"You are still underage, Genevra, do not argue again."

"But Hermione –"

"A little manual labour will do you well, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said firmly as she waved her wand at the pile of dishes overflowing the sink.

Sharing a look, the two young women continued their tasks, Ginny occasionally muttering about not being Muggle and the fact that _Princess's _incapability to aid in the preparation of her own wedding was going to turn her off a wedding of her own. It was mutterings like this which had forced Molly into finally allowing both girls out into the garden for a break from housework.

"Can't believe how bonkers Mum has gone," Ginny sighed once they were too far away for the Weasley matriarch to hear her grumblings.

"Well, her first child is getting married. I'm sure she will have calmed down some by the time you marry," Hermione joked as they strolled through the garden. What had once been an overgrown patch of plants and little creatures was now neatly trimmed and spread about with twinkling little fairies that would give the garden a magical shine the night of the wedding.

"Ugh, no more talk of weddings…" Ginny groaned, her head falling into her hands, her fiery hair creating a bright red curtain.

"Are things not well between you and Harry?" Hermione asked, confused. She was extremely happy for her two friends at the end of last year when they finally admitted to the feelings that developed between them. She had even accidentally walked in on them snogging more than once since Harry's arrival at The Burrow.

"Harry wants to… put us on hold until the whole You-Know-Who situation is resolved. But, Hermione, we thought he was gone the first time, and he came back! What if it's never over? What if Harry lives in constant fear of his return and doesn't want to…? Or what if –"

"Ginny, slow down and take a breath! You know Harry cares for you, that is not the question. He… he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him. He wants to protect you. He'll come 'round eventually, you'll see," Hermione assured her friend, hugging her close.

Ginny sniffed and fixed the hair back from her eyes, nodding. "You're right. He has his destiny, and I will be there for him when he's ready." She gave the brunette a small smile and they continued on through the garden.

"Come on, let's go see the boys! Maybe we can sneak in a quick game of Quidditch before Mum catches us gone for too long!" Ginny suggested giddily, pulling Hermione along and waving ecstatically to the boys, who were clearing away the leaves and overgrowth in the orchard.

"Oh, joy," Hermione muttered, but nonetheless, allowed herself to be led by the youngest Weasley to the little grove of trees.

"Oi! How'd you get away from the warden?" Ron demanded with a frown as the girls caught up to them.

"Ginny pitched a childish tantrum and she let us go for a break," Hermione explained, snatching an apple from a low-hanging branch.

"That's all it takes? Would've done that a week ago if I knew that…"

"Don't be fooled, Ronald, we don't have long."

Hermione and the boys chatted, everyone munching on the apples they found ripe enough to eat. Ginny mostly stayed quiet, sticking close to Harry's arm and leaning against him slightly. Harry returned the small sign of affection by wrapping his arm loosely around her waist, which Ron chose to ignore.

Then suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, they all heard the unmistakable _pop _of someone Apparating. The four friends watched in trepidation as a tall, slim figure stepped from the shadows between the trees, silent as a ghost passing over the ground. Their wands all rose in a split second, trained on the figure and expecting the worst.

The body emerged into the sunlight, his hands raised in surrender; blond hair shining white in the bright afternoon sunshine.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled, glaring at his nemesis. All eyes narrowed on the young man and Hermione cast her eyes to the shadows behind him.

"I'm alone," Draco assured them, raising his hands higher above his head.

"What are you doing here, Death Eater?" Ron snarled, his face turning ugly in his fury.

From Ron to Harry, to the girls, and back to Harry, Draco's eyes flicked like a trapped animal's. "I'm… here to join," he said finally.

"Join what?" Harry asked, his wand held high.

"Your side," the blond young man elaborated. "The Oder of the Phoenix, whatever you call yourselves."

"You mean the good guys," Ginny said.

"Like I said, _whatever," _he said with a sneer.

"Why?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Why betray your father and Lord?" A tickling feeling began at the base of her neck, reminding her how incredibly vulnerable they were out here in the trees if this was all a ruse to distract them while other Death Eaters surrounded them.

Draco visibly swallowed. His shoulders dropped, but he carefully kept his hands away from any pockets that may contain a wand. His eyes finally left Harry's strong gaze and fell to the ground. "I didn't sign up for what happened the night Dumbledore died…" he began slowly, choosing each word carefully – like he had practiced this before – but it was still difficult to speak each word out loud. "I didn't sign up for anything, really. Not willingly. Father forced me and the Dark Lord expected it of me. I had no choice." His eyes rose once more to connect with the group's, and Hermione would bet her wand that she saw his eyes pleading them to believe him.

"Guys, we should take this inside…" Hermione whispered, still wary of her surroundings.

"I promise, no else is coming. It's just me."

"Why did you come here, Malfoy?"

"I thought it would be the safest place," he said. "I hoped, Potter, you would be here so we could talk about it…"

Hermione watched the emotions play over her friend's face. She had always been able to read him fairly well; he wore his heart on his sleeve. Now, Hermione saw indecision written throughout every line on his face. _I know he will hear Draco out… Harry has too big of a heart to turn him away…_

Finally, Harry gave a curt nod and held out his hand. "Fine. We'll talk inside."

Draco obediently fished his wand from his robes and dropped it into Harry's palm. Harry led the way back to The Burrow, with Malfoy following a few steps behind him and Ron and Ginny on either side of the blond boy and Hermione following, the last three all with their wands at the ready, trained on their charge. _We're treating him like a hostage, _one part of Hermione thought in horror, while another, more rational and sceptical side whispered, _well, he was your enemy for years… _

Thankfully, when they entered the den, it was empty, and they all took a seat in silence, all waiting for Malfoy to further elaborate the reason for his presence at the home of _blood traitors. _

When it became evident that neither Malfoy nor Harry wanted to begin the conversation, Hermione took it upon herself to hurry things along.

"What did you want to talk about, Draco?" she asked as politely as she could. Ron shot her a confused look, as did Ginny. Harry seemed to be the only one admiring the brunette's professionalism in the situation.

Draco looked to Hermione. He was loath to tell her, she knew. Telling secrets to a _Mudblood, _how incredibly beneath him! The word even felt sour in her thoughts.

"Malfoy, how do you expect us to trust you if you won't trust us?" Harry snapped. His patience with the young man grew thinner each time he saw the look he directed towards Hermione. He watched as Draco pondered over his words and felt little relief when he nodded. They were all silently wishing he would say this was a mistake and they could go back to when things were normal and they could all hate each other on principle.

"I came to give valuable information to your… cause."

"Information? Like what?"

"What could a slimy git like you tell us?"

"Ron!"

"NO, Hermione, how can we trust him? He was there when Dumbledore got killed – he helped!" Ron yelled, jumping to his feet in outrage.

"I didn't kill hi –"

"Ron, sit down!" Harry shouted, causing his friends, as well as Draco, to flinch at the commanding tone of his voice. "He's here. He knew we could have blown him to bits if we wanted, but he came anyway and gave up his wand. I think that deserves our attention. Don't you?"

Ron's eyes darkened at Harry, but he seemed to hear his best friend's words through his rage because he did sit back down, but did not relax his wand arm, which he kept pointed at Malfoy unwaveringly.

Harry nodded his thanks and looked to Malfoy to continue.

"The Dark Lord put something in the Black family vault in Gringotts. He only told my father and aunt, so it must be important; something he wanted kept hidden and safe." Hermione, Ron, and Harry all sat straighter, listening, wrapped in his words.

"How do you know?" Ginny asked, harbouring the same sceptic doubts as her brother.

"I eavesdropped, obviously. Malfoy Manner is full of secret passages. I've been using them to avoid all the… _unsavory_ Death Eaters. I heard the three of them talking in my father's study from behind a thin, panelled wall."

It was then, as the four Gryffindor's were finally getting real information from the Slytherin, that Molly Weasley chose to enter the sitting room with an armful of freshly laundered sheets to be folded.

"WHAT THE BLOODY –"

"Mrs. Weasley, it's alright!"

"Mum!"

The four tried explaining to the witch as laundry flew in every direction and the young Malfoy found himself staring down the redheaded matriarch's wand to her full fury.

Suddenly, gone was his usual haughty demeanor and arrogance that had defined the boy from their first night at Hogwarts. In their place, there was only fear. Hermione could not help but feel a small stab of pity for the young man she had utterly despised for six years. Molly Weasley's fury was something she would only wish on Voldemort himself.

"Mrs. Weasley, please. He's here to tell us something – something that could help us win the war!" Harry explained, gently pulling the woman a safe distance away from the petrified Slytherin.

"Mum, Harry says we should hear him out," Ron told her, leading her away from her other side.

"You three keep talking with him, I'll… I'll try to rein in Mum," Ginny said almost fearfully as she tugged her mother from the den into the kitchen.

Hermione tried to ignore the screaming match from the next room and the rest of them settled back down to resume the discussion.

"Who else knows you're here?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "No one even knows I left the Manner yet, besides Mother. And she's with us too!" he quickly added in reassurance, seeing the look of distrust cross their faces. However, the three Gryffindors shared a look at Draco's use of _with us. _

"Had to tell Mummy you were leaving the house, widdle Draco?"

"Shove it, Weasley!"

"Ron…" Hermione glowered at the ginger boy.

"My mother is furious with my aunt and my father for them allowing the Dark Lord to use me. She doesn't trust them anymore. We knew that because of my… failure to kill Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would eventually find a convenient way to dispose of me, so Mother told me to leave." He took a deep breath and looked each of them in the eye in turn. Hermione looked to both her friends. Harry appeared convinced, and even Ron seemed to be coming around to Draco's story. She had to admit, it made sense. However, she couldn't ignore the little wriggling voice of disbelief in her mind.

"Use Veritaserum if you have to! I swear, I'm telling the truth – I'm not lying. I hold no loyalty to the Dark Lord or to the Death Eaters."

"And to us?" Hermione raised a brow.

"I'm here offering information that I would be killed for simply heaving heard it, let alone sharing it with a Mud – I mean, Muggle-born – and the Dark Lord's greatest enemies."

"Can you get us into the vault?" Harry asked. In his eyes, there was hope. Hermione knew he was hoping the Black vault contained a Horcrux, or perhaps more than one, however unlikely that would be.

"I can legally get you as far as the Malfoy vault. My aunt's is just a bit deeper than ours, I've been there before," Draco said nodding.

"What about a key?" Ron asked.

Draco pulled back the collar of his robes and pulled out a chain that was clasped at the back of his neck. Dangling off the end was a small vial filled with a dark liquid Hermione was hesitant to identify.

"Only someone with Black blood can open the vault. Those who have been burned off the tree, however, are denied access and will burn at the touch."

"Your mother was a Black."

He nodded. "Before I left, she gave me this," he said swinging the vial in front of them. "She said to cut my hand and mix the bloods then press my hand to the door and it should work."

"Should?"

He shrugged. "It's old magic, it can be a little unpredictable. But this is another reason for you to trust me! Willingly risking my life to get you something of the Dark Lord's from the _Black vault, _I mean, that's got to count for something!"

The three friends once more shared a look. It would not take a Ligilimens to know that they were all thinking the same thing. _This is our best shot, _they all thought. _We're going to have to trust him… _

Nodding, Harry stood and offered his hand to Draco. "So when do we get in?"


	6. Chapter 6

The family had not taken the news of their newest houseguest at all lightly, as Hermione had predicted they would not. After the trio's explanation of the situation and the retelling of Draco's story, the Weasleys agreed that, at least for the time being, the young man should stay with them at The Burrow.

This new presence, however, did not halt the ever-swirling whirlwind of wedding preparations that was Mrs. Weasley. During the day, Malfoy – who had originally offered to stay hidden away in a room while the rest of them busied about downstairs following the drill march of the matriarch – was given a new identity in the household, so not to call the attention of the Delacours upon them. As Harry was to be disguised as the Weasley's cousin Barney during the wedding, they, too, created a false identity for Draco. He would be Cousin Otis, of the same relation as Barney. Mrs. Weasley had forced the young man to endure a slight transformation. His blond hair, pale skin, and regal countenance were too obviously not characteristics of the Weasley line. So, after some time forced onto a stool in the kitchen under Mrs. Weasley's magical touch, Malfoy became a young man with shoulder-length red hair – courtesy of Fred and George's product Comb-a-Chameleon – freckles and slightly crooked front teeth. He was then instructed to continuously slouch in his seat, to shuffle his feet and to stutter as he spoke. The transformation was uncanny – Hermione hardly recognised the young man – and all were pleasantly surprised by Malfoy's apparent skill as an actor.

"We got the idea for Comb-a-Chameleon from McGonagall, actually," Fred told them that afternoon.

"We gave her a right run for her money while we were practicing that _Crinus Muto_ spellthat changes the colour of your hair. Oi, you remember that class, Fred?" George laughed and elbowed his twin. "That was one helluva great Transfiguration class!"

"We even sent her a free sample from our first batch!"

"But she returned them with a note telling us that she's happy with her black hair."

"Probably a jab at the fact that we accidentally transfigured her hair green…"

"Undoubtedly. She was not happy…"

"Worst detention!"

"If we're not counting Umbridge or Snape…"

They were all truly grateful for their quick thinking for the disguise, because the Minister for Magic arrived not long after, and "so rudely interrupted Harry's birthday party", according to Mrs. Weasley, to bestow Dumbledore's bequests upon the trio. During their quick meeting, Draco smartly chose to hide away upstairs to avoid the risk of being exposed.

_Otis _helped the rest of the family prepare for the upcoming festivities. Though they neglected to say it, all were surprised by Draco's usefulness in the last few hectic days before the wedding. Due to the way the young man kept to himself, Hermione felt compelled to include Draco in life at The Burrow. They were, supposedly, on the same side now, so why not get to know him a little?

That thoughtfulness was what led the young woman into the sitting room late the night before the wedding. Draco was seated on the well-worn couch in front of the dying fire, staring so intently at the glowing embers, he jumped slightly as the brunette sat next to him.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, his voice gravelly from disuse.

"I could ask the same of you," she answered, shifting into a comfortable position. "You know Mrs. Weasley will have us all up before dawn to finish everything before the guests arrive."

He hummed in agreement, eyes remaining focused on something far away that Hermione could not see.

She knew they were not close – couldn't even be considered friends, truly – but Hermione wished to take a risk with the young man sitting so lonely in front of the hearth.

"How are you feeling?" she asked cautiously. _This can go one of two ways, _she thought. _He will either tell me off or open up. His response could prove how genuine he is about his aborting Lord Voldemort's cause… _

"Just fine," he replied in a hollow voice.

_At least he responded… _

"Draco," she whispered, "You came here, to us, asking for refuge and offering us something in return. You knew what was happening with the Death Eaters was wrong and you chose to act on it. If you let us… well –"

"Well, what? We'll all be best mates? I came here because I was a coward scared for my own life and I knew the only way you would agree to protect me would be if I offered something in return – which I did and the only reason I'm still here and not in actual custody is because you all need me to get into the Black vault. Do not pretend we're friends."

Hermione took a moment to consider what he said. It was all true, of course, Draco was no fool; he knew he was still valuable to them for one reason. But Hermione refused to see people uniquely for their uses to others.

"I think one day we could be," she said honestly. "You came here of your own accord and risked your life and your mother's to do so." She paused and witnessed the flinch that crossed his sharp, pale features. "But I do not believe you were a coward. In fact, I think it was brave of you. You showed impeccable moral character in breaking from those who would soon wish to do you harm and harm to others."

"That's the problem with you Gryffindors; all you think of is bravery and selfless acts."

A small, cunning smile played over Hermione's lips, confusing Draco. It had only been a few days since his arrival, but Hermione found herself almost enjoying his attempts at the usual sarcastic attitude that had been his personality during their school years. "Think what you will, but I am interested in being your friend, Draco. Whether you like it or not, you're one of us now – one of the good guys. If I were you, I wouldn't want to be singling myself out further from those who want to help me. I'd want to befriend them, to build trust and work together towards a … mutually beneficial end."

"So, what you're saying is that I should suck it up and be a part of the _Golden Trio _until the end?" he asked, putting an excessive amount of sarcastic emphasis into the nickname that had been given to Hermione and her two best friends.

"Pretty much," she laughed. The young man had a sense of humour, she realized, and a knack for filtering her words and finding the essential.

"I'll have to think about that," he murmured, his eyes returning to the last of the embers. The flames had completely died out, leaving only the faint, golden glow to illuminate the room.

Hermione studied the boy sitting next to her. The light reflected in his pale eyes made them look almost like they were shining with unshed tears, or like the tortured soul inside was shining through, begging for release from something Hermione could not understand.

Deciding against pushing her advances too far in one night, Hermione rose and bid Draco a good night, to which he muttered a quiet, polite good night to her.

Perhaps it was too soon to tell or perhaps she was simply too optimistic and idealistic, but she thought that perhaps, given the time, at least she and the young Malfoy could develop a bridge of trust between them, that would, one day, become friendship.

* * *

Hermione sat with the other Weasley children, all of them quiet as the grave.

_They attacked, _they all thought. It was the single thought they could formulate through the shock still coursing through their veins. _The __Death Eaters attacked. _

The night had been passing blissfully, in Hermione's opinion. So many people had shown up to wish the happy couple well, even during these tense and troubled times. Before it had seemed silly, having a wedding in the middle of a war, but now, Hermione appreciated the few hours of pure happiness they had been allotted that day.

She had enjoyed seeing all the new faces of the guests and was glad to catch up with a few of the Hogwarts students that had attended with their families.

She also had the chance to catch up with old friends whom she had not seen for years. Viktor had arrived as Fleur's guest and Hermione was ecstatic to see her friend again.

She kept Malfoy close to her and introduced Otis to those she stopped to chat with. In her opinion, he seemed to be having a decent time. They both chuckled secretly behind their hands when Ron was rejected by all of Fleur's Veela cousins. They ate several pieces of cake and drank multiple glasses of the available spritzers. Somehow, Hermione even managed to drag the uncomfortable looking young man onto the dance floor until they were both out of breath and sweaty.

But then it happened. In the middle of all the festivities, a shining ball of light she recognised instantly floated down through the tent and illuminated the scene in an otherworldly glow.

Kingsley's Patronus said very little, but it was enough to understand exactly what happened. "_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming._" Panic erupted, people Disapparated left and right. Then the fighting started. Death Eaters appeared seconds later in clouds of black smoke, firing off spells at everyone left.

She had been prepared for this. Grabbing Malfoy by the hand, she dragged him through the mass of people running for safety or fighting back. In the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Weasley incapacitate a Death Eater; Remus dueling Yaxley. Fred and George stumbled into them as they went to the aid of their mother, who was occupied with two very angry looking Death Eaters.

It was far too difficult to spot the shock of red hair she was searching for. There were so many gingers here – _how in the bloody hell can one family produce so many redheads!_

"Hermione!"

Wand at the ready, the brunette had a spell on the tip of her tongue as a hand grasped her arm firmly from the frantic crowd.

"Harry!" she sighed in relief. She stared at the young man with round glasses and messy dark hair. "The potion! You have to leave!"

"We're going; stay safe. Ginny –"

"No time, mate. Let's go!" Ron said as he shoved into their little circle. "Talk soon, 'Mione." Grasping his best friend's hand and – reluctantly – Malfoy's jacket, he turned on the spot and the three young men disappeared before Hermione's eyes.

Hermione had only half a moment to worry of their whereabouts before a second hand grabbed her from behind.

"There you are!"

"Ginny! Thank heaven you're safe." Relief flooded her veins for the second time that night. At least all her friends were safe for the time being.

"Safe is a relative term – I'm only alive 'cause Remus saved my arse. That Greyback really has a thing for younger girls…" she shivered, her messy red hair rippling around her face.

"DOWN!" Over her friend's shoulder, Hermione saw a shape she had hoped to never come across again. A quick _Protego _blocked the stunning spell sent towards them by the dark witch.

"Oh goody, I do like a girl with spunk!" the witch laughed as she sauntered nearer to the girls. The black dress hugged her mature curves well and Hermione found herself suddenly envious of the woman she called her enemy. Messy dark curls swayed back and forth and a cruel smile formed over red lips. Hermione's eyes traveled up to black, expressionless eyes and she was shocked once more by the emptiness that blocked the sight to the soul inside. Her wand she held straight and true, the tip level with Hermione's eyes, her hand unnaturally steady.

Screams echoed around her, but in her mind, time stopped. Fear gripped her insides, her thoughts travelling back to the night of the flight to The Burrow. Summoning her courage and steeling her nerves, the brunette raised her wand in response, Ginny mimicking her actions at her side.

"Hmmm," the witch hummed, her wicked smile growing. "This ought to be fun. Ready to start up where we left off, girly?"

Ginny was the first to let a spell shoot towards the dark woman. The woman dueled both young witches expertly – almost lazily.

_How can anyone be _this _good! _Hermione shrieked internally.

Around them, members of the Order and various other attendees of the wedding dueled the Death Eaters.

"Retreat! Back to the Manner!" a gruff voice yelled through the chaos. "He's calling!"

One by one, columns of smoke ascended into the dark night sky.

Hermione didn't stop. The dark witch, realising the fight was over and her Lord called them back, broke her attack. Grinning wildly, the witch tipped her wand in a mock salute to the girls. "Ta, dearies!" And then she disappeared in a cloud of smoke as black as her name and followed her fellow Death Eaters into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she experienced a sudden wave of disorientation. The world passed by in flashes of scenery through the cool window pane, which her head had been resting against. The Hogwarts Express was as empty as Hermione had ever seen it. There had been several faces missing from the platform. She, Luna, Ginny, and Neville had taken a compartment together near the rear. She was Head Girl this year. She had been informed the day before she and Ginny left for the train via post. She had tried not to be surprised – although she genuinely was, she was a Muggle-born, after all – when she received the notice written in Professor McGonagall's elegant green script, to which Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes over exaggeratedly. Nevertheless, Mrs. Weasley, in the attempt at behaving normally, baked a cake to congratulate her.

This would mean she would have her own room and other duties added to her usual responsibilities this year. Normally, the news would have been the biggest honor, but things have since changed. Secretly, she worried if her new responsibilities would interfere with her research plans for the boys.

Across from her, Ginny stared blindly out the window. Since Harry, Ron, and Draco had left, the youngest Weasley had withdrawn into herself; her usual fire now much more subdued. It saddened Hermione to see her friend like this.

Beside Ginny, Luna sat quietly, completely engrossed in reading the newest edition of the _Quibbler_. The front page sported a rather fantastic caricature of Voldemort as a snake-like figure – more so than he truly was – slinking through the shadows as Harry performed _Lumos _and lit away the darkness; Voldemort burning away like the Muggle version of vampires with the headline "Stop You-Know-Who from Hiding in the Shadows: Help Harry Potter!"

As much as she appreciated the support given to her friend, she worried that the Lovegoods were being too vocal about their distrust of the Death Eaters. Beside Hermione, Neville held his newest plant safe to his chest as he watched Luna read, a small smile on his lips.

Suddenly, the train lurched; Ginny and Luna nearly crashing against Hermione and Neville on the other side of the compartment. The train came to a halt and the four friends shared inquisitive looks.

"Have we broken down?" Ginny asked, peering out the window.

A dreadful cold seeped into the compartment, the air chilled and the window frosted over. A horrible sense of déjà-vu came over Hermione, and she could see that the others felt much the same. In the distance, the friends watched as cloaked figures slowly approached the train.

"No," Hermione said quietly. "They're looking for him."

Loud voices sounded from down the train – from the panicked yelp of first years to the gruff growls of someone who definitely was no longer a student.

Neville stood abruptly from the bench and pushed his plant into Hermione's arms. Flinging the door open, the tall young wizard stepped into the corridor with a straight back and broad shoulders.

"Hey, losers!" he called to the Death Eaters stalking the train. "He isn't here. So stop scaring the first-years."

"I bet you'd like us to listen to you, boy. But we've got our orders and we're not going to stop for the likes of you," was the rough response from a rather rugged Death Eater. "So sit back with your girlfriends and shut up before you regret it."

"Neville, sit down," Hermione hissed, dragging her friend back into the compartment and shutting the door firmly. "They're just looking for Harry; they won't hurt anyone."

"But Hermione, someone's got to do something! We've got to stand up to them and fight back!" the boy argued, his face red with rage.

"We will do something, Neville, we are! We just have to wait for the proper moment."

* * *

The feast was a rather solemn affair. The hat sang a melancholic tune of snakes hiding in the grass, of angels disguised as rats and the four houses becoming one under a night of falling stars.

The Great Hall's silence was disturbing at best. The students gave polite claps to the sorted first-years, but all stayed extraordinarily silent for the first meal back at Hogwarts. So many of them were missing, Hermione noticed. Dean wasn't seated with Seamus this year – no one had heard from him in some time. He was supposedly on the run, refusing to return to a Hogwarts where Snape was in charge. The Patil twins were also absent, along with many faces Hermione came to recognise throughout her years.

The Professors' table, Hermione was glad to see, was full of familiar faces and remained much the same as in previous years. Her stomach twisted at the sight of Snape seated in the Headmaster's chair but was relieved that Professor McGonagall had kept her post. Professors Slughorn, Sprout, all the rest and even Trelawney were present. Hermione grinned widely and waved to Hagrid, whom she was glad to see was still Professor of Care of Magic Creatures.

Her eyes were then drawn to a very familiar figure – almost too familiar now, due to recent events. Professor Black sat on McGonagall's left, surprisingly; the rivalry between the two powerful witches had always been known by the students. Her long curls, black as night, were piled high on her head; a charm no doubt keeping most of it in place, with only a few strands escaping to brush against her pale cheeks. Her posture spoke of her boredom, but her eyes never rested. The black orbs roamed tirelessly throughout the hall, constantly vigilant; her wand lazily tapping the polished tabletop or her chalice. The ex-Auror gave off an air of hostility to any student up to no good and often went out of her way to cause mischief for the usual troublemakers. As fierce as McGonagall was with her students, no one wished their enemy to cross Professor Black on one of her bad days.

Hermione had always held the professor in high regard, especially since the invasion of Umbridge as Ministry Advisor to Hogwarts in fifth-year. The professor had blatantly refused to conform to the new regulations on teaching and even went as far as to call the hag a cow to her face during one of their frequent heated arguments. For that, she had nearly lost her position. Despite the brave acts of nonconformity of certain professors, Hermione had still taken matters into her own hands and formed Dumbledore's Army to focus specifically on defensive and the occasional offensive forms of magic.

There were, however, two new faces Hermione did not recognize seated at the professors' table. Snape, as new Headmaster, introduced the two new members of staff. Alecto Carrow would be taking the place of Professor Burbage for Muggle Studies and her twin brother, Amycus, would be teaching a new class – The Art of Dueling.

"Death Eaters," Neville whispered in Hermione's ear. "Some of the worst, from what I heard. Like most, they're the 'curse first, ask questions later' type."

"Brilliant," Hermione said despondently. "Suppose they'll not fancy students stepping out of line."

"Most likely not. You'll have to watch out; they'll have a special eye on you."

Folding her arms, Hermione sunk lower onto the bench. She hadn't been keen on this arrangement from the beginning, and now, she found herself envious of the freedom of the three boys. _I'll just have to outsmart these Death Eaters, then. Hermione Granger, there's nothing you love more than a challenge._

* * *

Black eyes surveyed the room with a careful, practiced look of indifference. Bellatrix had made an art of watching those who didn't know they were being watched. Years of practice as an Auror built one's skill level for subtly and stealth.

Bellatrix tried not to grind her teeth as she felt Minerva tense up beside her. The older woman would give herself a stroke before the night was through if she didn't relax – it wasn't like Snape would curse the students in the Great Hall! The man was far too clever and sly for such things.

The rest of the professors' table was restless. The disappearance of Burbage caused an unsettling mood to fall over all of their heads. Of course, they all knew what had happened; it was only a matter of time before Voldemort needed to make an example of what happens to Muggle-lovers. No one else had gone missing from the staff, thankfully. She was curious to see how long Hagrid would last before he was driven off or worse. She also wondered how much freedom the professors would be allotted in their own classrooms. Umbridge had been one thing – a fluffy, pink butterball full of over-sweetened tea and hot air was hardly an imposing figure compared to the magnificent power of the Dark Lord.

The students were all anxious this night as well, and even the Slytherin table's cheer for their new Headmaster was surprisingly restrained. There were fewer students than she had anticipated. She suspected the news of a known Death Eater as Headmaster had deterred many parents from sending their children back into the fold of Hogwarts.

_And now, _she thought, _there are two more of them to worry about. _Bellatrix watched as the Carrow siblings each stood and took a small bow in recognition of Snape's introduction. She remembered the twins from her years at Hogwarts. She would willingly admit that, in her youth, she had a rather bitter nasty streak as a bully and in her sixth year, she has started a rumor that the two were very close, even for twins; that the nature of their bond seemed at times almost _unnatural_. These rumors were neither confirmed nor denied by the two. _They_, however, were two individuals who would definitely curse students in front of a crowd.

She continued to scan the room; her gaze expertly seeking out the deepest shadows and seeing each nervous twitch of the students. She noticed her nephew was missing from the Slytherin table; she assumed the Dark Lord kept him back in the ranks of his army now that he no longer needed a spy to keep him informed on Dumbledore's movements. Further across the room, a shock of red hair at the Gryffindor table notified her of the presence of at least one Weasley.

At the far end of the Gryffindor table, a small group of older students sat somewhat separated from the rest. Longbottom, the Weasley girl, and Granger sat alone; the absence of Potter and Weasel from the group was nearly palpable.

In her years of teaching the Golden Trio, Bellatrix had rarely seen Granger without the two boys. It gave her a very odd feeling as she watched the girl wallow in her loneliness, even amongst the two others. For what reason would Granger be here and not the others? Where were they, what could they be doing without the brains of their little club? Whatever it was, she presumed Potter thought he was following up on some grand master plan for ridding the world of Voldemort.

* * *

The common room flames burned low in the grate. The warm glow caused the reds and golds of the room to come to life, like the room itself was a giant warm hearth. Hermione sat alone in a seat she used to occupy with Ron and Harry whenever they sat together. By now, the common room was empty save for her and the journal she held in her lap.

Outside, clouds covered the moon and stars, and a breeze colder than it should be for September first, shook the window panes. She found herself grateful that Harry had taught them how to perform _Patronuses, _what with Dementors roaming the grounds as _security_ now_. _

Opening the journal and pulling out a self-inking quill, Hermione began to write.

_At Hogwarts. Common room is empty… There are fewer students than I thought there would be. Most of the original staff has returned – Hagrid is safe! We have two new professors, however. Fraternal twins, the Carrows. The sister is teaching Muggle Studies in Professor Burbage's absence and Snape started a new class for the brother – the Art of Dueling. We have no idea what to expect yet. They've been named Deputy Headmaster and Headmistress and are in charge of discipline. Neville said they're Death Eaters; I seem to recall reading about them in old newspaper clippings about the first Wizarding War. They have Dementors roaming the grounds now. Snape calls them security. I will be starting research tomorrow. Keep me updated. Stay safe. My love – Hermione. _

Hermione sat back and waited. She never knew if the boys would answer her right away or several hours later. Often, it was Harry informing her that they had no news yet, but they were working on a plan to break into Gringotts.

The night of the attack at The Burrow during Bill and Fleur's wedding, Hermione had rushed into the house as soon as she was able to check the diary. She had wisely packed a rucksack for the boys with an Undetectable Extension Charm and magically made it small enough to fit in Harry's pocket before the wedding.

Upon opening the book, she found a few short lines written in Harry's penmanship.

_**We're safe. Apparated to King's Cross, then went to Grimwald Place. Ran into two Death Eaters as we left the train station; took care of them. Malfoy used **_**Obliviate**_** just to be sure. He says Voldemort's name is Tabooed. Best not to say it out loud. Be careful. We'll talk soon. Keep yourself and the others safe. Love – Harry and Ron. **_

At the bottom, Hermione was touched to find a third signature written in a script she didn't recognize.

_**Kind regards – D. Malfoy**_

She found it awkward and silly that the young man would be so formal towards her in the journal, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same. It made her optimistic as to their blossoming friendship.

She waited another five minutes before deciding it was time for bed and she would check the journal in the morning before class. As she did routinely every time she put the journal away, she cleared away the traces of their conversations. With three Death Eaters in the school, she wanted to take no chances that the journal would fall into the wrong hands and give away valuable information as to the whereabouts of her friends.

She made her way to her private room and, after casting a few minor wards for good measure, dressed for bed and climbed under the covers. Tomorrow, classes would start. She had Muggle Studies after lunch and, although dreading the inevitable confrontation with the Pureblood supremacists, she was curious to see how the class would change to favour their opinions. She knew nothing good would come of it for her. Mostly, she looked forward to all her regular classes. As much of a fuss as she had put on, she was glad to be back in a place she knew so well. Perhaps her professors would let helpful information slip. She longed for the library. Finally, the brunette fell asleep, with predictions for the morning running rampant through her dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright, shut up you lot. I'm here now so it's time to grow up and learn something important," Professor Black commanded as her heels clicked up the aisle between their desks to the front of the class.

Obediently, Hermione, Neville, and all other students halted their conversations and turned their attention to the figure dressed all in black standing before them.

"I trust your summers were bearable," she said, her black eyes sweeping the room. Not waiting for responses, the professor continued. "As you can see, there are less of us than expected this year. This does not mean I will be taking it easy on you. On the contrary, I will expect you all to perform to your very best during these… circumstances." Her hard, penetrating gaze dared any student to voice any complaint. Six years had taught them all, however, that whining in Professor Black's class earned you a one way trip to a special detention with the professor herself; she had no patience for those who were not up to pleasing her high academic standards.

"Also," she continued, "in light of recent events, the curriculum has been slightly altered for the benefit of us all. This term, I will be teaching you more advanced forms of protection and ulterior means of defense. I have no doubt you all have heard of the new Dueling course that has been made mandatory? I tell you now; you will want to pay attention to my lessons in order to survive that class with everything well intact. Who can tell me the most useful spells while in a duel?"

Hermione shot her hand in the air, hardly aware that she had already formulated an answer. A few other hands scattered around the room also lifted into the air.

"Finnigan." Black nodded to the Gryffindor sitting at the back of the class.

"_Stupefy, _the stunning spell is pretty useful in a fight," the Irishman answered.

"Correct. Very simple, but, indeed, useful. But say I wanted to simply disarm my opponent, not hurt him. Which dueling spell would I use then?" Black asked as she paced back and forth in front of the class; her arms folded and her poster straight. Hermione could tell that the professor took this topic seriously. Were they truly in danger in Hogwarts? Did she believe that they would eventually need the knowledge of these spells in order to protect themselves inside school grounds? With three Death Eaters on the loose, Hermione obviously believed they were better safe than sorry. She now understood that many professors felt the same.

More hands lifted high above students' heads.

"Parkinson."

"_Experillamus." _

"Correct again. There is one more spell that can save your life in a fight. It does not protect against the Killing Curse but will block most curses, hexes, jinxes, and spells directed at you. What is it?"

Purposely looking over Hermione's head for a third time, the professor pointed her wand at Lavender to answer. With a huff, Hermione crossed her arms and slouched lower in her seat. _First day back and she's not letting me answer anything. _In her petty pouting, Hermione missed the slight lift of the corner of Black's mouth at her childish response to being overlooked.

"It's _Protego, _Professor; the Shield Charm," Lavender said gloatingly, enjoying Hermione's obvious annoyance at not being chosen to answer a single question.

"Excellent. Now, that's the basics covered. I assume most of you, if not all, can perform these spells in combat, but I want to see it. Everyone partner up and practice those three spells. After a few minutes, I will test each of your Shield Charms with a weak _Stupefy_. If it holds, you pass. If not, you'll land on your arse and will have to try again until you get it. Move!"

The students rose and found their partners. Standing a few feet across from Neville, Hermione shot a weak _Stupefy _towards his shield. Each time it held, the young witch increased the power of her spell, until she accidentally sent her friend flying backwards into Seamus.

"Sorry! Are you hurt?"

"Never you mind. But I want to try _Experillamus _now."

"Have you been practicing?" she asked as they resumed their positions, wands out and ready.

"Lots." With a swish of his wand and the muttered incantation, Hermione's wand flew from her fingers directly into Neville's waiting palm.

"Brilliant!" she praised him.

"Alright, that's enough. Everyone line up. It's my turn." The professor said with a wicked grin in place.

As instructed, the students all lined up around the room and each of them performed their best Shield Charm for their professor. The exercise went by quickly; everyone withstanding the professor's obviously incredibly weak Stunning Spell.

"Well, I don't often say this, but I'm impressed," she admitted once she had cast her last spell. "Every one of you withstood my spell. Granted, had I performed it properly, you all would be in the Hospital Wing, but nevertheless, I am proud. There will be an essay to write on the efficiency of combat spells and the accuracy with which they must be cast and whatever else I decide I want you to write about due next week. Yes, Granger, I will be more precise about the content as well as my expectations next class. Dismissed." Returning to her desk, Professor Black sat and watched as the students packed their belongings and exited her class, her eyes lingering on Granger's back as the girl exited with Longbottom. It still confused her that she was here and the two other idiots weren't. In truth, it almost worried her. Soon, someone would try to get information out of her as to where the boys were. The young witch would have to watch her back, and Black promised herself she would give the girl as many tools as she could to help the poor Muggle-born survive her final year.

"I can't believe it! You realise this is the first time we're actually being taught combat spells? Wicked isn't it?" Neville gushed as he and Hermione exited the classroom and made their way down to Potions.

"I'm glad you're excited, but Neville, she's only teaching them because she thinks we could be in _actual danger. _I mean, why shouldn't she? With three Death Eaters wandering the halls and Dementors at every exit…" Hermione said in a hushed voice, eyes on the lookout for anyone that may not approve of her words.

"I suppose you're right," Neville reluctantly agreed. "But you've got to admit, it almost feels like we're back in Dumbledore's Army again, doesn't it?"

Smiling at her friend's excitement, Hermione agreed. To herself, she wondered just how often they will need to use these spells through the halls of Hogwarts.

* * *

Seated once again next to Neville, both Gryffindors waited for their new Muggle Studies class to begin. Unlike most classes, this one was comprised of students from three of four of the houses. To her knowledge, most of those present were Muggle-born, Half-blood, or what the purists would call _blood traitors. _Behind her, Seamus sat with Justin from Hufflepuff.

"Good morning, class," said a voice from somewhere behind them. The voice instantly made Hermione bristle, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on high alert. Alecto Carrow walked with slow steps to the front of her classroom, wand held casually in her hands. "This is your new Muggle Studies class. You may think of it as a sort of history class if you must, for I will be teaching you how the first Mudbloods stole magic from its rightful proprietors and how the Wizarding World was forever muddied by their filth."

Hermione stared at the witch. _Seriously? _

"To begin, I will need a volunteer." Cold blue eyes focused intensely on the light brown ones staring back at her unflinchingly. "How about you?" The witch's wand flicked, and Hermione felt her body go numb, as though her brain had lost connection with her limbs. Suddenly, she was stepping up to the front of the class, much like a zombie from classic Muggle horror films. Once standing at the front of the room, the fog lifted from her mind, but she remained unable to control her limbs. Had she not been imprisoned by the professor's curse, she expected she would have been frozen by nerves.

"Now, can someone tell me what she is?" the Death Eater asked in her pretentious tone. Silence ensued as the students' response. Hermione was as confused by the question as the rest. "Well?" she probed impatiently.

"A girl?" a Hufflepuff from the back of the class answered hesitantly.

"Wrong." Carrow raised her wand again and the student cried out. Dropping from his seat, the boy writhed in agony on the floor as the spell tortured him with invisible fire and needles. Hermione felt bile rise in her throat as she watched the boy. Her eyes momentarily switched over to Neville. Her friend sat rigidly, hands balled into fists and his eyes shut tight. His body shook nearly as much as the Hufflepuff boy's. And then it stopped, and the boy was left gasping and sweating on the floor. "Back in your seat, filth," the woman hissed.

The boy immediately lifted himself into his seat, his face pale and eyes full of tears.

"I will ask again: what is she?"

"A Muggle-born," a Ravenclaw girl answered in a small, frightened voice.

"No. There is no such thing as a _Muggle-born. _ There is only Mudblood. This girl is a Mudblood. Everyone, say it. 'You are a Mudblood'."

Hermione did not want to believe her ears. _Is this woman trying to make us turn on each other? What is she doing? _She tried to fight the Imperius Curse that kept her standing so rigid it hurt her spine. _You can beat it, Harry did, you can do it. _

There were a few whispers throughout the class; many students still too shocked by the recent use of the Cruciatus Curse to be able to speak.

"Louder!"

"Mudblood," a few more voices joined the originals.

"Again, again, and again! Scream it! Make her hear it! Tell her what she is!" The professor's voice rose in twisted excitement.

"Mudblood. Mudblood! MUDBLOOD!" the students screamed. Several of them had tears streaming down their cheeks as they screamed the slur at her; others wore masks of pure panic. It continued until Neville was the only one not yelling out the atrocious word.

"YOU!" Breaking her focus from Hermione, the witch turned to Neville and Hermione fell to the ground. Finally able to move, she passed a hand over her face to find that it is wet with her own tears. Shaking and screaming, she pushed herself up onto her knees and watched helplessly as the horrible professor tortured her good friend with the same curse that ruined his life sixteen years ago.

* * *

Neville stayed quiet the rest of the day. Her friend had finally conceded and used the derogatory name, ending his torture. Hermione wished he could forgive himself, for she felt absolutely no ill-feelings towards him – quite the opposite! Hermione admired her friend's intentions and strength, but she knew there were very few people who could withstand the torture of the curse and not give in.

Seated at the table for dinner, Hermione had just finished describing their first class with Professor Alecto Carrow to Ginny. Her friend – who was normally so composed and full of fire – was now close to tears in front of her.

"Hermione…" she whispered softly, wiping at her brown eyes, "that's so horrible! You have to tell someone; tell McGonagall!"

"I don't think there's anything she could do," Hermione responded, her voice still hoarse from her screams of before.

"But –"

"Ginny! I told you because I want you to be prepared. Because of your family, you'll have to take it, too. It's just a word. Like Harry says, we can't fear a name. It just gives them more power." She pushed her food around her plate with her fork. She was not at all hungry, her stomach still nauseous from all the tortured screams of her classmates. "Besides, we have other things to work on now."

"Seriously? What could be more important?" Ginny asked incredulously, her voice rising.

"Keeping our heads down!" Hermione hissed back. "They've all got it out for us because we were the closest to Harry! I don't think it was coincidence that she chose me to be the example during class. They will want to break us so we can't cause any trouble for them."

Acknowledging her words, Ginny's head lowered and she glumly nodded. "I s'pose you're right… but we still can't let them walk all over us, 'Mione! We have to do what we can."

"I agree with Ginny. We were all a part of Dumbledore's Army – we were preparing ourselves for what was coming and now the war is here! We can't stand by while Harry's out there fighting," Neville insisted, his voice strong and sure. "Hermione, I know you know what Harry's up to and I know you can't tell me, but if there's anything we can do, you have to let us know and we'll do it; no matter the cost."

Staring into the eyes of her friend, Hermione suddenly longed for the simple days of her Hogwarts years – if there were any. But he was right. They all had to fight the fight in any way they could.


	9. Chapter 9

"Miss Granger, I assume you know why you've been summoned here?"

"Yes… Headmaster," Hermione answered sombrely. Only a week into the school year, Hermione found herself seated in the headmaster's office. Flanking the headmaster on either side were the Carrow twins, both with disgustingly similar smirks over their faces. She could not help but feel like a fawn being hunted by wolves.

Behind her, Hermione felt McGonagall's presence like a guardian angel. She knew they couldn't do anything too horrible with the older witch standing watch. Or, at least she hoped…

"It has come to my understanding that it was only you who have returned to Hogwarts this year, without the company of Potter or Weasley."

"Yes, sir." She kept her answers short and to the point. She felt as if she were in an interrogation room. In the eyes of everyone in the room, she was the sole focus. Despite the soft morning light outside the few windows behind Snape, Hermione felt trapped in a dark prison. Avoiding every gaze, Hermione allowed her eyes to roam around the room, until they landed on something reflecting the soft light from behind a glass case – the sword of Gryffindor. _Scrimgeour said they didn't know where it was… _

"Where are they?"

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Hermione asked, immediately returning her focus to the new Headmaster.

"Potter and Weasley; where are they?"

"Ron is at home; he's sick with Spattergroit. I'm sure the Weasleys have informed you?" _First rule of lying in an interrogation: turn the tables to be the one asking the questions_.

"We have received that notice," Snape admitted in his usual monotone voice.

"Then why did you believe it was necessary to ask me?"

"That is irrelevant; however, you have not answered as to Potter's whereabouts."

"I don't know where he is." _Which is the truth, he could have left Grimwald Place for the day… _

"What is he up to?"

"I don't know." _Well, I don't know what he's doing _right now...

"Miss Granger, I find it exceedingly hard to believe that you – the most _intelligent _member of the _Golden Trio – _do not know the whereabouts of your supposed best friend."

"Believe it, sir, because I don't know where he is or what he's doing," Hermione stated again in a clear, sure voice. She was glad they could not see how profusely she was sweating beneath her collar. "I am simply here to finish my education. No war can excuse one from one's education. There is no excuse for ignorance," she repeated her rehearsed lines. Behind her, she heard her Head of House snicker in amusement.

"Snape, she's _lying!_ Use Veritus –"

"Thank you, Alecto, but I believe that I am Headmaster here, not you," Snape snapped as if he were scolding a persistent child.

"But Lord –"

"Silence! Be reminded of your place, Carrows, before I am forced to remind you," he hissed, his dark eyes flashing with more emotion Hermione had ever seen in him. Returning his black eyes to Hermione's brown ones, Snape studied her for a moment. For a split second, Hermione felt like a deer in the headlights, caught by his gaze, and stared back, unable to turn her head. Then Snape looked down and the spell was broken; Hermione released a breath she had not realised she'd been holding. "I will believe Miss Granger's story, for now. It is true that she is an insufferable know-it-all and would return to Hogwarts simply to receive praise from her professors for her work. You are excused, Granger. Professor, please bring me Ginny Weasley next."

"Very well, Headmaster," McGonagall responded with as much disdain as she could pour into the single word. The woman, leading Hermione out the door with a soft hand to her back, slammed the door shut behind them.

The two witches walked in silence down the corridor. Hermione could feel a million questions threatening to escape the professor's mouth, but the woman kept them securely closed behind the thin, bloodless line of her lips. As much as she trusted Professor McGonagall, she appreciated the woman's restraint. There are some things that she cannot confide in the professor, for fear of the wrong people finding out.

_Why was the sword missing when the Ministry went to look for it? How is it back? Why would Dumbledore leave the sword of Gryffindor to Harry?_

"If we hurry, Miss Granger, you will not miss much of Professor Black's lesson. I shall accompany you to vouch for your absence, I understand the professor can be a little… strict, on some issues," she offered.

"Thank you, Professor."

Together, the two walked to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Upon nearing the class, Hermione felt a light touch to her shoulder. Stopping, she turned to look at McGonagall. "Professor?"

"Should you need anything, Miss Granger, anything at all, I would like you to know that you can always come to me. I understand times are difficult and I would like you to know that I shall be there whenever you decide to… ask." During her short speech, the professor seemed to have a difficult time meeting the young witch's eyes and wiped her spectacles on her robes as an excuse to avoid her gaze.

Hermione's heart warmed. It felt good to have someone as strong and powerful as McGonagall in her corner. Giving the professor a bright smile, she politely thanked her and they took the last few steps to the classroom.

Professor McGonagall gave a few sharp knocks to the thick wooden door and opened it at Professor Black's bark, "What!"

"Professor Black," McGonagall greeted disapprovingly. The woman stepped aside to allow Hermione room to enter and find her seat.

"Ah, Granger. So good of you to finally join us! Minerva, I assume you are here to motivate her absence?" Though her words could seem condescending to some, Black's tone withheld any usual malice when she spoke to her old professor. It was understood that though there was a rivalry between both witches, there was also immense respect and a line neither witch dared to cross.

"Yes, she was with our _esteemed _headmaster for a time. Good day, Professor, I must fetch another student for him."

"Run along, then; wouldn't want to keep _him _waiting."

Closing the door behind her, they heard McGonagall's heels _click_ down the hall before finally disappearing.

"As we have finished the review on the most useful dueling spells, we have moved along to the Unforgivables. During your fourth year, you learned that there were three Unforgivable Curses, correct?"

The students nodded. During the Triwizard Tournament, Professor Black had been forced to teach part-time due to her involvement in planning the games and shared class-time with the Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as the Auror, Mad-Eye Moody. She had been furious the professor had refused to stick to her curriculum. The Death Eater had not only taught them about the Unforgivables, but also a number of other dark spells and creatures. At the time, Hermione had thought it very unethical and inappropriate subjects for a classroom, but as time would have it, she learned more from a Death Eater than she did the following year beneath Umbridge's tutelage.

"Would someone care to refresh our memories?" Black asked and nodded to a student at the back.

"They are the Cruciatus, Imperius, and Killing Curses," Blaise answered.

"Very good. What do they do? "

"The Killing Curse kills ya!"

"M. Finnigan, another immature outburst like that will land you a place in detention!" The snickering that had begun over Seamus's outburst instantly ceased. "This is not a joke," the professor continued, her voice adopting a dangerous tone. "This is not a game. Outside, there is a war filled with people who would not bat an eye at harming students like you lot. I am teaching you in order to prepare you, so that you all will have a fighting chance once you are no longer protected by the professors, wards, and walls of Hogwarts, understood?"

As the professor spoke, Hermione watched her eyes become more distant, like she was seeing something else and not the classroom filled with students. She, like many of the professors in the school, had lived through the first Wizarding War. Hermione quickly did the math in her head – the professor must have been a young Auror during its peak. No doubt, she saw firsthand the horror and carnage caused by the Death Eaters and what happened to underprepared civilians who got in their way.

"The Imperius Curse gives you control over your victim's actions. It can be resisted, but only strong individuals are able to do so. Finally, the Cruciatus Curse – the Torture Curse – delivers excruciating, unimaginable pain to the victim. There is no way to block it or to fight it like with the Imperius Curse."

"You don't say…" Neville muttered grimly. Hermione's thoughts flashed back to their first Muggle Studies class of the year. On Neville's other side, Professor Black – who had obviously heard Neville's hushed comment – paused her lesson and cast her eyes down towards him, but did not comment.

"That's all I have to say on the matter," she continued, "however, I will ask you to write a full roll of parchment on the creation of all three curses in history following through to when they were named Unforgivable and argue against or for their use in today's modern Wizarding World."

"So, we won't be learning them, Professor?"

"Do not mistake me for a Death Eater, Zabini! I do not condone children practicing dark magic on other students – or at all!"

"But the Ministry's legalized them again –"

"It is a dark road to fall down. Not many wizards and witches who fall into the Dark Arts ever leave them behind or are left unchanged by them. All I am doing is informing you of the basics. Since there is no real way to fight two of them, I cannot teach you to defend yourselves, only warn you to be wary. As I understand it, the Unforgivables are part of Professor Carrows' curriculum in Dueling, so why don't you ask him? Dismissed."

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, propped up by pillows with school books surrounding her on all sides long after the other students had gone to bed. On one side, she had the schedule for the Prefects' rounds after hours; on the other, she had her Transfiguration and Potions homework and at her feet, she had her DADA essay on the Unforgivable Curses nearly completed. In her lap, she held a book she had retrieved from the library just after dinner. This, however, was not part of any of her school work or other related responsibilities.

_The sword of Godric Gryffindor, _she read, _is made of Goblin Steel. Such steel is the most formidable of all metals used for weapons because it is never tarnished by age, rust or misuse. Goblin Steel only takes in that which makes it stronger. Throughout history, many Goblin-made swords… _

_Only takes in that which makes it stronger… _

Suddenly, Hermione was rifling through the mess on her bed searching for the journal that kept her in contact with the boys in Grimwald Place. Usually, she was not this unorganised, but having her own room allowed her to spread her work _everywhere_.

Finally retrieving it with an _aha! _of success, she quickly opened to a fresh page and quickly scribbled her message.

_We need the sword of Gryffindor! It can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made steel only takes in that which makes it stronger, so when Harry stabbed the Basilisk with it in second year, the metal was infused with its venom, meaning it is able to destroy Horcruxes! _

_I know it's in Snape's office. I'm going to get it out. Talk soon –Hermione. _

Closing the journal, Hermione sat back against the headboard of her bed. If she could find a way to get it out of Hogwarts, the boys could find it and use it to destroy all the Horcruxes they find!

Rubbing her tired eyes, Hermione admitted defeat. Moving her mess of school work to her desk, she crawled beneath the covers of her bed and thanked the creators of Hogwarts that their wards protected the windows from the tornado-strength wind howling outside her bedroom.

* * *

Standing in front of the hearth nursing a tumbler of Firewhiskey, Bellatrix stared into the flames, watching as the bright light played with her vision and the embers glowed like rubies.

Her beautiful face, which had aged extremely well, was set in an annoyed frown. She didn't like being confused. She hated it, which was why she had all the top marks in every class while she had been a student here. Confusion lead to misunderstanding and ignorance, and ignorance was a fatal flaw. But here she was, at two o'clock in the morning with a glass of Firewhsikey – confused. All because of one student.

Earlier, she and Minerva had discussed Granger's and Weasley's trips to the headmaster's office. Neither girl admitted to knowing where Potter was and both claimed Ron was home sick. Obviously, they were lying. Bellatrix had no doubt that either one or both of them had a secret way of communicating with the boys through the walls of Hogwarts.

No way was she going to buy the "I'm here to learn" bullshit Granger spouted to Snape, no way in hell.

No, Granger was definitely up to something – something that would get her into serious trouble if she wasn't careful.

With a loud sigh, Bella sunk on to her comfortable couch. _That girl better watch her arse… _

_You should help prepare her… help her succeed. _

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Sometimes the voices in her head asked her to do some pretty stupid things. Some days she listened, other days she chose to ignore them. Today was an ignoring day. Why should she go out of her way to help Granger? Teach her enough to watch her back, fine – that was her job as a professor. But to endanger herself by being a willing accomplice to whatever scheme was going through the young witch's head? Forget it.

_Since when do you avoid danger?_

_Since it's not my problem. _

_You want to help the girl. _

_She's not my problem._

_She could finish him once and for all… the three of them have a plan… they could destroy him… revenge for – _

_ENOUGH! _

Putting her glass to her lips, Bellatrix drained the liquid in a single gulp. The burning whiskey helped chase away the more persistent voices.

Bellatrix watched as the fire continued to die until only the embers and ashes were left to light the room and keep her warm. Her empty glass long forgotten, Bella's head fell back onto the couch and she finally fell asleep.

* * *

"_NO! Please, please don't kill him, please! Have mercy on him!"_

"_Why should I?"_

"_Because…"_

"_No… can it be true? A Pureblood in love with a Mudblood! DISGUSTING!" _

Beneath closed eyelids, Bellatrix's eyes flicked rapidly from side to side, watching the memory that played on their backs.

_Flash of green… endless screaming… crying… children crying… flashes of red… _

"_CRUCIO!" _

"_NOOOOO! LEAVE HER ALONE!" someone screamed… nothing stopped the torture… _

_Bellatrix watched the barely breathing heap of flesh and clothing on the floor. Eyes empty. Skin deathly pale, covered in sweat. Pale lips speckled with blood whispering a simple wish like a sick mantra… _

"_Kill me… kill me… kill me…" _

"_Watch children… you see… I am a _merciful _Lord…" _

"_AVADA KADAVRA!" _

Bellatrix flew off the couch screaming and trashing in fury and pain at the memory that plagued her dreams. Her impact on the floor jarred Bellatrix into the present. Eyes wild, they searched around the room, taking in every corner, every shadow, and every shape hiding in the shadows; the black depths of her eyes held a mad glimmer that normally was kept contained beneath layers of sarcasm and intimidation.

Running a hand through sweaty hair, the witch groaned and shook the remnants of the dream from her thoughts. Turning her head, she checked the clock over the mantelpiece.

5:39. _Damn. Looks like it's an early morning… _

Rising to her feet, she padded over to her bathroom in the darkness, shedding her clothes and dropping them to the floor along the way.

She flicked her wand at the shower and instantly, hot water spouted and rained down. Steam filled the room and Bellatrix felt herself being wrapped in a warm blanket. Again, the water was too warm for any normal person, but she withstood it, letting the scalding water turn her pale skin pink. Her hair created a dark curtain around her face and she leaned against the tiled wall.

_Huh? _

Looking up and parting the veil in front of her face, Bellatrix saw the fist-shaped crack in the tile.

_Guess I forgot to fix that… _placing her hand over the broken tile, Bellatrix willed the magic flowing through her veins to course down through her arm and out her hand, repairing the tiles. _Repairo… _

Removing her palm, Bella smiled at the newly repaired tiles. Normally, the house-elves would be the ones to magically repair anything broken, but by now they knew better than to disturb anything amiss in Professor Black's private quarters. It satisfied her to see the destruction she caused during her fits of anger. She always eventually repaired the brokenness she caused before Minerva showed up for a surprise visit as she occasionally did.

A wave of her hand shut off the water and she wrapped a towel around herself. Exiting the bathroom, she glanced at the clock again.

6:26. _I guess it's time to go down to breakfast… _

Dressing in her usual black dress, corset, high heels, and robes, she lazily piled her curls into a messy bun without magic and applied her crimson lipstick.

Her heels _clicked _ferociously down the hall. Every human and creature could recognize the sound of the professor on a mission and instantly created a path for the imposing woman in black. Entering the Great Hall, it always boosted her already enormous ego to hear the hush that fell over the crowd of early-bird students spread about amongst the four tables. She grinned. She would be sure to keep today interesting; anything for a pleasant distraction.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione made her way through the halls of Hogwarts warily. She was very grateful that Neville was walking down to breakfast with her; no one should really be walking alone anymore.

This anxiety was different than all other fears she had of walking through the halls of the school. Not only did she have to dodge bullies like Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy on a daily basis, as well as the Carrows, but there were so many new booby traps hidden around the school, it was like having to dodge Peeves around every corner.

It was expected that the students wouldn't take to Snape's tenure as Headmaster overly well, and the addition of the Carrows to the teaching staff appealed to them even less. Thus, the students from three houses banded together much as they had beneath Umbridge's tyranny. The school revolted.

Fred and George must have been busy as Nifflers in a jewelry shop these days, with all the Weasley Wizard Wheezes Hermione came across in the school.

A few times a week, someone would let loose a Dungbomb in one of the Carrows classes or a Decoy Detonator in the Great Hall. Self-Propelling Custard Pies were left at the foot of the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's staircase, lying in wait for Snape to descend.

There were also products from the joke shop that eased the students' minds and made walking to class marginally less dangerous. Shield Hats were a particular favourite amongst Muggle-borns and 'blood traitors' and it was becoming a frequent occurrence for a hallway to suddenly be engulfed by sooty darkness due to the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. The latter was extremely useful when one needed to escape the wrath of the Carrows or the likes of Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione wrote to the boys often and told them the support being shown for them – well, more so for Harry. Banners and graffiti, chants and songs… Hermione imagined this must have resembled school protests in the Muggle world, like some of the ones she had read about. Ron was immensely proud of all the students and almost wished he could be back to contribute his own artwork. While Harry was appreciative of the support, both he and Draco were more concerned that the students were putting themselves in harm's way needlessly.

Hermione had to agree. There were always those poor souls who were caught in the act. So far, all detentions were being given by Hagrid – per Snape's orders – but that did not stop the Carrows from inflicting their own punishments on the unlucky students they caught themselves.

There was often a constant stream of students to and from the Hospital Wing. To date, they were minor injuries. Madame Pomfrey had even suggested that all professors keep a jar of Weasley's Bruise Removal Paste in their classrooms for students with black eyes and such as well as a large supply of chocolate to counter-act the draining effect caused by so many Demenors roaming the grounds.

That morning, on their way to the Great Hall, the two Gryffindors passed several graffiti slogans on the stone walls of the school. Most of them used Snape and the Carrows as punchlines for jokes, but there were a few brave souls who supported Harry and denounced Voldemort, his Death Eaters, and the corrupt Ministry.

"What do you think of all these, 'Mione?" Neville asked casually, pointing to yet more slogans painted on the antique stones of the castle.

"As much as I appreciate their support for Harry, I can't say they're being especially intelligent," Hermione responded. "This will only prove to antagonize Snape and the Carrows. Did you hear what happened to the fifth-year they found with a can of paint? He ad to spend the night in the Hospital Wing."

Neville's face dropped. "I heard. Not that I think the Carrows particularly care, but isn't using magic on student against… _all _the rules? McGonagall gave that Death Eater disguised as Moody hell in fourth year for transfiguring Malfoy."

Hermione nodded. Although the memory made her smile a little, the Carrows' disciplinary practices made her more than a little disturbed.

They continued down the corridor and the sound of students eating became louder. The mid-September sky was overcast outside the tall windows of the Great Hall. Inside, many floating candles were lit to make up for the lack of natural light.

Seated in their usual place at the Gryffindor table, Ginny and Luna were already eating their toast and porridge. Despite the somber day, the two sixth-years seemed rather excited.

"Hermione!" Luna greeted the moment the brunette took her seat beside Ginny.

Hermione looked between Ginny, the excited blonde, and Neville. "What?"

The three shared a look and, together, exclaimed, "Happy birthday!"

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in surprise. _Oh my goodness, they remembered my birthday! _With everything that was happening during the start of school; Harry and the two on the run, the Carrows terrorising the school, and Snape's new reign… she was truly touched they took the time to acknowledge something as small as this amidst the chaos.

"You all remembered?" she said with a widening grin.

"Of course!" Ginny said and leaned over and hugged her friend fiercely.

"How could we forget it? IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!" Neville's eyes glinted and he grinned.

"Well… with everything lately…"

"Hermione, we could never forget your birthday! Even if Nargles took all of our clocks and calendars, Wrackspurts erased our memories, and Skin-Walkers took over our bodies!"

"That's… a wonderful sentiment, Luna, thank you."

"Aaaaannnnnd… Tada!" Ginny announced as she reached beneath the table. She dropped a small pile of brightly coloured wrapped gifts onto the table in front of Hermione.

Hermione's jaw hit the table to the second time. "You got me presents?"

"Of course, we got you presents, 'Mione!" Neville said as he and Luna each pulled up their own gifts for the brunette.

"This one is from me," Ginny said and slid a large package towards her. It was wrapped in a lovely purple paper with butterflies fluttering around.

Hermione gingerly tore up one corner of the paper and slowly lifted the paper away. She found it such a shame and a horrible waste to tear at the beautiful, magical paper. It was so much easier opening muggle gifts.

"Oh, come on, 'Mione, rip it!" Ginny yelled and leaned over and tore away half the wrapping.

_Well so much for saving the pretty purple paper. _With a defeated shrug, Hermione finished unwrapping. "Oh my gosh, Ginny, this is wonderful." She lifted the lid of the paper box and held up the beautiful blouse. It was periwinkle blue, the exact shade of her Yule Ball dress from fourth year. Embroidered stars twinkled over the material, adding a magical sheen to the garment.

"I know you eventually want to be a big-shot Ministry lady, so I thought you might appreciate a nice blouse to wear. Not that your sweaters and cardigans aren't nice, uh…" Ginny's speech slipped as she realised her unintentional insult to Hermione's Muggle wardrobe.

Hermione laughed. "No, you're right, Gin. I need to look professional, and this is perfect, thank you!" she hugged her in thanks.

Cheeks still tinted pink, the Weasley girl passed her another package. "This one is from Mum. She's had everyone's birthday and Christmas gifts made for months already since there hasn't been much to do but sit around the house and worry."

Hermione extracted a lovely lavender and cream coloured afghan blanket. She marveled at the softness of the material.

"Mum infused the tread with vanilla, so it should always smell fresh and comforting. I think she's worried you'll have trouble sleeping."

"I'll have to send her an owl, this was incredibly thoughtful." She passed a hand once more over the material and carefully re-wrapped it. It was such a small thing, Mrs. Weasley worrying that she wouldn't be sleeping well but it was such a motherly sentiment that it made Hermione's throat thick with emotion. _I miss my parents so much…_

"Here 'Mione, open mine next!" Luna passed her a small, square package and a much larger, heavier rectangular one.

"Oh, Luna… I don't know what to say!" Which was the most honest thing Hermione could think to say. The square package held a pair of Dirigible plum earrings, identical to Luna's own and the heavy package turned out to be several issues of _The Quibbler, _monthly editions dating back two years.

"I gave you all the edition of _The Quibbler _I could find that mention recent discordance in the Ministry as well as articles pertaining to You-Know-Who's return. I thought you might be able to link things together and help Harry with them," Luna explained. Hermione sat mouth-agape at Luna's thoughtful and pre-meditated rationality. "There are also some interesting columns about the effects of Blibbering Humdingers on a restless and sleep-deprived mind. I think Mrs. Weasley read those articles, which explains why she gave you the blanket."

Hermione stretched her smile wider and shared a look with Ginny, who simply grinned and shook her head. Beside Luna on the opposite side of the table, Neville was having a hard time containing his laughter. His face was red as he sniggered into his orange juice and chocked.

"Here, ahem, 'Mione," he coughed, still chuckling, "I think mine is the last one."

Hermione welcomed the change in topic, not wanting to inadvertently insult Luna's gifts, and accepted the parcel from Neville. "_Medicinal Plants and their Uses for Common Household Injuries: Magical and Other _– Neville this is perfect, thank you!"

"I thought it might come in handy; I know how you like to be prepared." He shrugged modestly.

"Thank you all, so much. I… honestly I had almost forgotten my own birthday within all the upheaval but this… this has been truly special." Hermione gushed and beamed at her friends in turn. She carefully placed each of her gifts – even the earrings – in her bag with the Undetectable Extension Charm, which she had taken the habit of carrying with her constantly.

"As much as we'd like to keep the festivities going, 'Mione, we should probably get to class," Ginny frowned and each of them rose from the benches and parted ways.

* * *

Today, Hermione made it through the day without incident.

Although the halls and the Carrows' classrooms were fair game, all students knew better than to let loose one of their pranks in another professor's class. Professors Black and McGonagall had both made it exorbitantly clear as to what would happen if some foolish student dropped a Dungbomb in their class.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Black had returned to the subject of Unforgivable Curses. As she had stated last class, there were two curses that she could never prepare the students for. However, for the last, the Imperius Curse, she had reconsidered her position and decided to follow the example of a Death Eater's lesson plan.

They spent that class watching the professor cast the curse, taking notes on her wand movements and the symptoms shown by the victim whilst under the curse. Then they all practiced fighting her curse one after another as she made all the students do some embarrassing act or other. It was remarkably hilarious to watch Blaise dance the cha-cha – which Hermione believed was the professor's form of revenge for his insensitive comments during their last session.

As with Barty Crouch Jr. when he was disguised as Moody, no student was able to completely throw off the curse. By the end of the lesson, only a few students had had the will power to momentarily escape the fog of the Imperius Curse and fight against the professor's embarrassing pranks.

"Alright, everyone. I can't say that I'm pleased to be teaching a bunch of weak-willed pansies this year, but that was a fair try. By Monday I want half a roll of parchment on the different methods in detecting whether someone is under the Imperius Curse. Dismissed." Black waved her wand and the desks returned to their original positions throughout the room.

"You know, I nearly had it that last time," Neville said as he and Hermione left the classroom.

Hermione nodded along to his recounted how he almost dispelled the fog from his mind and felt an odd prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Turning, she saw the professor quickly move on to organising the papers on her desk, but it was clear that the woman had previously been watching her.

_That woman is too suspicious for my own good… _


	11. Chapter 11

Waiting for the professor to enter the class, Hermione stared outside as leaves flew past the windows. It was now midway through October, but the air felt more like the end of November. So far, thirteen students had had encounters with the Dementors and much of the student body, as well as the faculty, were feeling the effects of the happiness-sucking presence of the ominous cloaked figures on a daily basis. Needless to say, chocolate was in high quantity in every classroom, dormitory, and the Hospital Wing. Students were even being advised to carry it with them between classes and during free-time. Hermione was positive that Honeyduke's was making a killing from all chocolate products whenever the students had a Hogsmeade trip. Luckily, there were as of yet no worse cases than a few students passing out; a professor was never too far away and managed to chase the demons with their Patronuses before any innocent souls were sucked from the lips of children.

They all jumped as the door slammed shut at the back of the large room, echoing off the stone walls, and rapid, impatient heels _clicked_ up the aisle. With a swish of her long, flowing black robes of expensive fabrics, Black flicked her wand to the blackboard. The chalk rose and quickly scribbled an incantation. _Expecto Patronum_.

"I trust you all have heard of this spell?" she asked, though it was hardly a question as she did not wait for any actual response. "Good. Can someone tell me what it is used for?"

On habit, Hermione's hand shot up like a rocket into the air, nearly lifting her from her seat.

"Anyone besides the over-excited Granger here?" Black sighed, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. "Anyone, please?"

Slowly, Neville raised his hand beside Hermione.

The professor nodded at the young man. "Longbottom."

"It's the Patronus Charm. It protects the caster from Dementors."

"Very good, that is its main utility. This subject was originally planned for later in the term, but seeing as we've had another near case of the Dementor's Kiss on a student, I thought it would be prudent to have more eyes out there with the ability to use the charm. Does anyone know anything else about the Patronus Charm? Granger, will you please calm down! Give the others a chance." Seeing as no one else had any further knowledge they were willing to share, the professor begrudgingly gave Hermione voice. "Alright, go ahead."

Pleased, Hermione brought all knowledge of Patronuses to the forefront of her mind. "A Patronus is a magical guardian formed from the positive emotions and memories of the caster and transformed into positive energy, which a Dementor will feed off of instead of the caster. The Patronus of each wizard is unique, taking the form of an animal that is linked to their soul. Patronuses can also be a means of communication; transporting messages between wizards over long distances –"

"Thank you, Granger, that's enough, take a breath," Black said, waving her hand to cut the girl off. "Raise your hands; how many of you have cast the charm?"

Hermione's and Neville's hands rose confidently, as did the hands of all those who had been in Dumbledore's Army during their fifth year. None of the Slytherin's, however, raised their hands.

"I see. I take it you all learned it from Potter?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

The students nodded. "Well, let's see how good of a teacher he is. Everyone line up around the room. Think of a happy memory – the happiest you can think of. Move your wands like so and use the incantation _Expecto Patronum_."

Everyone did as instructed. Fitting herself between Neville and Seamus, Hermione focused on a happy memory. _Mum and Dad used to take me camping in the forest of Dean. We would fish and have campfires and one time, dad caught poison ivy… I doubt they would remember any of it now…_ Blinking rapidly, Hermione lifted her eyes in preparation. Black stalked around the room, pausing at each student as they performed the spell for her. Occasionally she would correct a hand motion or suggest the student choose a stronger memory, but otherwise, she stayed rather silent.

Few of the Slytherin's were able to perform the silver mists of weaker spells, but most could conjure nothing. Beside her, Neville produced a soft mist shield, but she was sad he had not yet found a memory strong enough to create a corporeal Patronus.

"Granger," Black said, nodding for the young witch to cast her spell.

"_Expecto Patronum_," she said softly. Immediately, a silvery otter formed from a cloud of smoke the colour of moonlight and swam on the air around the two witches.

"I'd like to say I'm surprised, Granger, but I would be lying. You're such a perfect little know-it-all." If Hermione had not detected the hint of pride in the elder witch's voice, the brunette would have felt hurt by the comment. Why did some professors find it a nuisance that she was actually a talented witch? "This, class, is what a full-bodied Patronus looks like. However, the spell will only last as long as the caster stays focused on maintaining the memory." With no warning, the professor lunged forward into Hermione's personal space. Her sudden proximity caused a yelp from the young woman's lips and she stumbled back and would have toppled back over a desk, had the professor not grabbed her by the shoulder and waist.

Staring into impossibly black eyes, Hermione's heart raced. _They're not empty,_ she reminded herself as she felt panic rise in her throat. _The professor is too stubborn and hot-tempered, so full of fire… it's not her… _Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her Patronus's form disintegrate and disappear in a puff of silvery smoke.

"You see?" the professor said, taking a step back and removing her hands from her student's body._ Huh, never would have thought Granger had such a waist beneath the robes… _"Try not to get distracted while fighting off Dementors."

The professor continued around the room. Only a few other students managed to perform a full-bodied Patronus. Beside her, Seamus's fox scampered briefly around the room, along with Lavender's Capuchin monkey and Ernie Macmillan's boar.

"I expect you all to practice the charm as often as possible. To pass this unit, you will need to perform at least the mist-shield form of a Patronus for a minimum of fifteen seconds. Congratulations to those who have already passed; I expect everyone to be able to perform at least a wisp of mist by next class. Dismissed." Arms crossed and leaning against the window sill, Black's eyes once again focus on Hermione's retreating form. _I swear I'm going to figure you out, Granger. Students don't have secrets from me…_

* * *

"I have to cast a full shield-Patronus to pass? What is she playing at! That's magic even some wizards out of school can't perform!" Neville vented in frustration as he and Hermione made their way to Herbology.

"Don't worry, Neville, we'll practice lots. I think she's actually trying to help, what with all the Dementors floating around," Hermione said reasonably.

"I suppose… but I can't think of something happy enough!"

"We'll worry about that later. Partner with me? It looks like Professor Sprout is having us work with something with fangs…"

Smiling, Neville gave her the name and described several properties of the plant on the table in front of them, thoughts of Patronuses vanishing at least momentarily.

* * *

"The sooner you cast the curse, the sooner everyone leaves!" Professor Carrow yelled at the trembling Lavender.

Pointing a shaking wand at Neville, Lavender attempted to cast the Imperius Curse on her friend to end her torment, tears streaming down her face. Very rarely did a class with the Carrows not end in tears.

Today, they had all been forced to cast the Imperius Curse on each other. At the beginning, everyone had refused – even some of the Slytherin's were hesitant to cast the spell.

"Do it, Lav, it's okay; it won't hurt," Neville reassured the girl, but instead of comforting the poor soul, his encouragement only made her cry harder.

"I-i-i-m-p-p-e-e – "

"Oh for the sake of Merlin, you sniveling wretch; cast the damned spell before I force you to!"

From her place behind Lavender, Hermione's blood boiled. _This is not how professors teach… _of course, he was no real professor, but Hermione still found herself shocked that the Carrows went as far as they did to torment them during class. _And I thought Snape was mean to Harry… these two make him look like bloody Father Christmas… _taking matters into her own hands, Hermione lifted her wand a fraction, so the tip was aimed at Lavender's quivering back. "_Imperio," _she whispered, and instantly, Lavender's body relaxed and, with a steady hand, the girl cast the spell on Neville, who began to do jumping-jacks, as they were instructed to force the students under the curse to do.

Before there was much time to investigate, Hermione released the other Gryffindor from the curse which in turn freed Neville.

Suddenly back in control her own body, Lavender's knees weakened and she fell to the floor confused. Hermione was instantly beside her, slowly helping her rise to her feet. "I helped you," she whispered in the girl's ear, "don't say anything or he'll hurt us."

Biting her trembling lip, Lavender gave a subtle nod. Hermione thanked Merlin the girl swallowed her pride and agreed to keep quiet.

"Finally! Alright, everyone out of my face before I _Crucio_ the lot of ye."

Obediently, the students ran from the classroom, each rushing to their respective dormitories to digest the newest torture.

The Gryffindors, once some ways away from the classroom, slowed and marched along like soldiers returning from a day in the trenches. Inside the common room, they collectively released a sigh of relief. As of yet, the Carrows had not yet entered the dormitories to inflict torture, instead sticking to their allotted class-times and the unlucky students they pass in the corridors.

Feeling a light touch on her arm, Hermione turned to see Lavender's tear-stained face giving her a small, sad but grateful smile. "Thank you, Hermione. I don't think I would have been able to do it…" the girl admitted, a small hiccup in her voice. "I also want to say sorry; I know I've been a real… well, bitch to you since Ron and I broke up…"

"It's alright, Lavender," Hermione told her. "It's not fair what they're making us do… it's torture… it's animalistic and cruel!"

"But you're able to do it! You did it; you were strong enough to make me do it!"

"No, I wasn't strong, I was weak. I forced you to do something you were unwilling to do –"

"So he wouldn't torture me or anyone else! Face it, Hermione, there are only a few people here who stand up to them… you're one of them." Leaving the bushy-haired Gryffindor with this new information, Lavender ascended the stairs to the girl's dorm for some well-deserved privacy.

"She's right, Hermione," Ginny said, taking a seat next to where Hermione sat in bewilderment. "You're putting on a brave face and everyone's stronger for it. The Golden Girl is playing hero." The redhead gave her a small bump on the shoulder before turning her attention to the fire.

"She's right," Neville agreed, taking a seat on Hermione's other side. "I've been thinking… we need to do something… something big, to show these Death Eaters that they can't break us, that Hogwarts is ours and that we refuse to take this lying down!"

"What do you have in mind? The pranks and graffiti aren't enough?" Hermione asked, intrigued but lacking enthusiasm. _I was supposed to keep my head down while here… so much for that nonsense. _

"The pranks are good, but no, they're not enough. We should start Dumbledore's Army back up again! Keep teaching defense, maybe moving on how to fight the Imperius Curse and Patronuses and stuff!"

"So basically teach the whole school what Professor Black is teaching us?"

"Yeah, basically!"

"What about the first-years and all the younger grades? You can't expect them to be able to cast Patronuses and fight off Unforgivables!" Ginny argued.

"Then we protect them!" Neville countered.

"Then we have a more pressing issue," Hermione interjected before the young man could get any more excited and bring the attention of everyone in the common room down on them.

"What could be more important, Hermione? It's what Harry would do!"

"He's right, 'Mione."

"Professor Black has us working on Patronuses and to pass the unit, we need to cast a full shield Patronus. Neville needs some practice."

"Guess it would make sense for us all to be able to perform it before we teach it," Neville admitted glumly, his mood instantly evaporating at the mention of the assignment.

"'Course we'll get you there, Nev, don't worry," Ginny encouraged, patting his knee.

"Hello, everyone," a dreamy voice greeted them as a blonde witch with long, wispy curls took a seat beside Ginny on the end of the sofa.

"Luna, how the bloody hell did you get in our common room?" Ginny demanded in shock.

"I don't believe Professor McGonagall was very creative this year," Luna said happily. "Your password is Nargles. I found myself walking past your portrait the other day asking myself if the Nargles will hide the Carrows' wands from them when the portrait suddenly opened for me. I quite like your tower; very cozy."

"You have perfect timing, Luna!" Hermione said, deciding not to instigate the brewing argument that she knew was boiling beneath the redhead's surface by telling the blonde that their password was actually _cor leonis._ "We all need to help Neville with his Patronus for Defense Against the Dark Arts, would you like to help?"

"Of course!" she agreed with a brilliant smile. "Perhaps I can ask the Wrackspurts in his ears to say happy things to him. They're known to be little voices in our heads that make us think random things."

"We're also thinking of staring up Dumbledore's Army again," Neville whispered to the girl. "Once I can cast the charm, of course."

"That would be amazing! Like old times," Luna gushed, the excitement in her smile blinding. "Shall we use the Room of Requirement again?"

"Most likely," Ginny said. "Do you think the Carrows will know about it?"

"Dunno, we'll see if they catch us, shall we?" Hermione said, a defiant smile splitting her face. It did feel good to have a plan; to be proactive against the invasion of their beloved school. For too long, Hermione felt as though she was sitting on the sidelines, while watching as the boys played the game for her. It was time that changed.


	12. Chapter 12

"Come on, Neville, give it one more go," Ginny encouraged her friend as the four of them sat outside in the sunlight on a Saturday afternoon.

Off to the side, Hermione lounged on a rock soaking in the brief warmth before it vanished behind the growing clouds. Today was the first day in weeks the sun had been strong enough to peek through the constant cloud cover and, taking a break from her endless hours spent cooped up the library searching for answers or being tortured in the halls by the Carrows, decided to joined her three friends outside to help Neville practice casting his Patronus. Despite the brief patch of sunlight, the now late October weather was still bitterly cold – all of them wearing their scarves knitted so thoughtfully by Mrs. Weasley throughout the years. The Dementors' constant presence on the grounds of the castle turned the chill numbing at times.

"It's no good, Ginny! I don't have any strong enough memories," Neville grumbled, sinking down to the pebbled shore of the Black Lake. His defeated gaze wondered to the blonde standing knee deep in the water attempting to call the mermaids to their aid. Supposedly, the merfolk had a secret power of being able to transform the water they lived in into an elixir for happiness. _Supposedly. _Hermione found the girl's persistence heartening, but Ginny's patience wore thin with the girl's naivety. It had been already two weeks since Professor Black introduced Patronuses in class and most of the class by now had managed to pass the requirement, but Neville was still unable to create a full-bodied guardian.

"Luna, come out of the water. Stay in there long enough, the squid will get you," Ginny called to the other sixth-year.

"No, he won't, Leonard wouldn't pull me in. Not unless I started singing old Scottish tunes, at least. So, no one sing, please," she answered with a calm smile. Behind the girl, Hermione and Neville attempted to keep their chuckles low and hidden as Ginny rolled her brown eyes exasperatedly.

"What a load of rubbish…"

"Oh, you think so, Weasley girl?"

Three of the four students jumped at the sudden appearance of their professor emerging from the dark tree line behind them. Luna merely looked back with an airy smile. "Good afternoon, Professor," she greeted, unfazed.

"Afternoon, Luna. Any luck with the merfolk?" Black inquired casually, shifting the basket she carried under her arm. The woman smirked, her ruby lips lifting slightly in one corner and her black eyes gleaming with a glint of mischief at the astonished look of the redhead at her nonchalant manner of questioning the girl's actions.

"None yet," Luna responded, oblivious to the stupefaction of her friend. "I think Leonard is keeping them away; he can be awfully jealous when I try to speak with them and not him."

"Hmm, that's unfortunate. But you should come out of the water before you catch cold; Madam Pomfrey would never forgive such reckless disregard for health." Heeding the professor's words, Luna returned to dry land. "Fret not, Longbottom. Merfolk are not the only answers to your current troubles." Hermione watched the professor step forward from the shadows created by the edge of the forest and into the dissipating sunlight. "The problem is much more easily resolved than you seem to think. Weasley, Luna, would you mind performing the charm for Longbottom's benefit?" Black requested.

Luna, now back on the shore, cast the charm with Ginny. A warm feeling spread through Hermione as the silvery-white hare hopped along and a ghostly horse galloped around their little sanctuary away from the school.

"Excellent. Now, tell us, what memory does each of you use to perform the corporeal form of your Patronus?"

"I use the memory of my father and me searching for the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks over the summer," Luna said brightly, her eyes far away as they followed her hare.

Black nodded approvingly and looked to Ginny. The redhead blushed slightly but answered all the same. "My first kiss with Harry," she said softly.

"And you, Granger? Your memory?" Black, inquisitive eyes turned to her and Hermione felt as if they burrowed deep into her soul, searching for the answer in her eyes before she could speak it.

"My parents and I camping," she answered quickly, turning her eyes to Neville, the lake, anywhere but the piercing gaze of the professor. _Could she discover my secrets just by looking at me? _She wondered with panic rising in her throat and her heart beat accelerating to an alarming rate. _I don't dare doubt it…_

"Now, Longbottom, your turn. What's your memory?"

"When I cultivated the first boils from my own Bubotuber plant over fifth year," the young man answered sheepishly. Despite his obvious affinity for Herbology, Neville did not often discuss his passion openly with those outside his friend group and Professor Sprout.

Nodding to herself, Black's gaze drifted to the dark, rippling water of the lake. "As strong as the memory of a passion of yours can be, it is not strong enough to create a full-bodied Patronus, most likely only a shield. What is the difference between your memory and those of the girls?"

"Ummm… theirs have people?" he answered unsurely.

"Precisely. Their memories involve the people that they care about and love deeply. _Love_ is a key emotion to casting the Patronus." Turning from her students, the professor made to leave them and return to the darkness of the forest from which she had appeared. "Do not forget, Longbottom, the casting of the charm is due the same day as the essay on the Patronus Charm – in three days. Be quick about finding a suitable memory. I believe Granger may have a trick that could help you out." With those words, the dark witch disappeared through the trees and the students were left puzzled. Well, all except Luna, who had returned to the water and the gurgling sounds she made to call the merfolk.

"What does she mean, Hermione? What do you know?" Neville asked pleadingly. This could be his only chance to pass the unit – he needed this to become an Auror, someone powerful and strong enough to fulfill his greatest wish.

Meeting her friend's gaze as openly as she could, Hermione answered honestly. "I have no idea, Neville. I really don't."

* * *

_Neville still can't perform his Patronus. I fear he may not pass, but school is really the least of our problems. I truly think that if he could manage it, it would help his sense of worth. Muggle Studies is still quite as unconventional as before. The Art of Dueling resembles more the opposite of _Defence _Against the Dark Arts. _

Hermione paused in her writing. She hated keeping information from her friends, but she understood that if she told them that the Carrows often used the Cruciatus Curse on them during class and were teaching them the Dark Arts in order to transform them into minions for Voldemort, she knew it would only distract them from their mission. They still hadn't managed to finalise a plan on how to break into Gringotts and the delay dampened their morale greatly. Harry had finally decided Malfoy deserved to know the secret of the Horcruxes, and the blond agreed that it sounded as if that was what was hidden in the Black Vault.

_Research has been less than fruitful, unfortunately. Not even the Restricted Section has any mention of Horcruxes. I fear I may have to ask a professor, but I also fear the consequences of asking the wrong one. I plan on visiting Tomes and Scrolls during the next Hogsmeade trip. Hopefully, they will have something. Any luck on your end? I still say you should hide under the invisibility cloak and follow Draco. _

Hermione sighed. She knew her boys well enough to know they would soon be getting impatient. Impatience would then lead to some foolish plan that would either get them caught or worse, and Hermione would not be there to get them out of trouble.

To her surprise, beneath her neat writing, another script began to appear.

_**Hermione, we have currently put aside our plans for entering Gringotts in favour of something more immediate – not ten minutes ago, Ron was exploring the upstairs of Grimwald Place and found an answer we've been searching for! R. A. B. was Sirius's brother, Regulus Arcturus Black! He and Harry are currently interrogating the house elf, Kreature, hoping he will know more of the whereabouts of the real locket and if it was destroyed. We may have to search the house; it doesn't sound like the elf wants to be helpful. **_

_Make a trade! Give him the fake locket for information on the real one. He is a living being with feelings and rights. Make sure the boys treat him correctly and with respect._

Hermione wrote quickly, this was the first time she had caught one of the three while they were in proximity to the journal. It felt nice to have a two-way conversation for once.

_**Good idea, I'll tell them. I'll write back soon with more updates. Stay away from the Carrows, Hermione; they're of the worst sort. They're both insane and revel in torture. Only my aunt and the Dark Lord himself rival their skills with the Cruciatus Curse. Talk soon – Draco. **_

_**P.S. Harry agrees about the sword, but we all insist on caution; with Snape and the Carrows involved, being caught could prove deadly. **_

The brunette sighed and passed a hand through her hair. _This is good… something, at least. _She hoped beyond hope that Kreature knew something about the locket – best case scenario, he watched Regulus destroy it.

But she doubted it. That seemed too easy with the luck they'd been having lately.

* * *

The next morning found Hermione is a dismal mood. She never ceased to be amazed by the wonders of irony. Here she was in the place she had always loved, surrounded by books and mountains of knowledge, but none of it helped her current situation.

Ginny and Neville sat across from her at the Gryffindor table, both equally as put out. Hermione knew Ginny was missing and worrying about Harry much more than she admitted to anyone, including herself. Neville remained preoccupied with his Patronus dilemma, which made Hermione feel worse. Professor Black seemed to think she had the answers, but for the life of her, she knew nothing! She couldn't force Neville to think of a happy memory any more than she could invent one for him.

Above them, the owls swooped around the Great Hall delivering the morning post. Neville nearly spilled his pumpkin juice as a large tawny owl swooped low over his head and let drop the morning edition of _The Daily Prophet. _With her quick Chaser reflexes, Ginny caught the scroll before it landed in her cereal.

"Really, Neville? You still subscribe to the _Prophet?" _she asked, placing the newspaper between them.

"It's Gran. She thinks there may be some truth in it. I think it's more her habit of reading the _Prophet. _I don't read the blasted thing; so full of lies!"

"Mind if I take a look then? At the very least we'll know what sort of gossip is circulating through the Ministry," Hermione said, taking the paper at Neville's nod. Opening it, Hermione grimaced at the first headline – _Muggle-born Registration: Know the Weak, Praise the True. _To her horror, the entire article described the Ministry's efforts to compile a list of all Muggle-borns in and out of Hogwarts and keep track of their goings-on and whereabouts, claiming that they feared a coup from the "_weaker members of the magical society". _

_It's bloody disgusting… _Hermione thought, her face wrinkled in disdain.

Directly beneath the article, was a picture of the individuals overseeing the registration of the Muggle-borns and suspected Half-bloods. Deloris Umbridge's pudgy face stared back her in perfect black and white. Hermione suspected that the light grey of her robes in the picture were truly the ghastly pink the witch was so fond of.

She wore a look of utter superiority, standing between Yaxley and Thicknesse, the new Minister. Standing between such tall men, her dumpiness was put into evidence, which gave Hermione reason to smirk callously.

Hermione was about to turn the page when something small and seemingly insignificant caught her eye. She leaned closer for a better look. Hanging low around the witch's thick neck, hung Salathar Slytherin's locket. Hermione could not believe her eyes. Grabbing the paper in her fist, she leaped from the table, not stopping to answer her friends' surprised outbursts.

Running from the hall, Hermione could only think of writing to the boys and informing them of her new discovery.

So engrossed was she in her plan that Hermione was not paying attention to what lay in front of her until she ran smack into a soft body turning around the corner.

"Oi, Granger, watch where you're going!" Professor Black barked, using her wand to pick up the stack of papers that had fallen from her arms. "Where're you off to in such a hurry?"

"Just to the common room, Professor; forgot something. Sorry!" Hermione yelled back over her shoulder. In her hurry, she missed the professor's grumbling of "bloody teenagers always in a hurry, running through the halls…"

Hermione took the steps two at a time and practically yelled the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady once she set foot on the landing. She ran through the common room and up to her solitary room. Warding her door behind her quickly, she pulled out the journal from its hiding place in a secret compartment of her trunk.

_Umbridge has the locket! Find a copy of today's _Daily Prophet, _her picture is on the front page and she's wearing the locket!_

Hermione wrote as fast as she could. She did not expect an immediate answer and planned to come back during lunch to check, but found the boys must have been planning to write to her as well when she saw the apparition of black writing beneath her own.

_**Blimey! Brilliant, 'Mione! You just answered the question that I was to write you. Kreature told us someone came in the night Moody died and stole a bunch of stuff from the house. Turns out, it was Dung. Dobby and Kreature found the wanker and brought him back. He said he gave it away to 'some Ministry hag' who was going to lock him up for not having a licence to sell in Diagon. I suppose his description was bloody accurate enough, eh? I'll tell the others and Harry'll go out with the Cloak for a copy of the **_**Prophet**_**. Sounds like one mystery down and one more brought up – how to get the locket from the Toad? But we'll figure it out; we have you and your brain on the job! Talk tonight, Harry just got in with food – Ron. **_

Elated by their sudden success, Hermione erased the messages and placed the book back. How were they to get the locket from the witch? The most obvious solution would be to break into her house and steal it, but something told her that Umbridge would have about as many wards on her home as Hogwarts did.

Her brain once again filled with a new problem, Hermione left her room before she was late to Transfiguration.


	13. Chapter 13

_**You're right, Hermione, that's definitely the locket. I guess we're putting Gringotts on hold to figure out how to break into the Ministry. If you have any ideas… we have none! **_

_**I think Malfoy is getting more comfortable here with us. He's talking more and giving valid suggestions; he's really trying. Ron is still a little unsure about him, but they played Wizard Chess yesterday and no one died. So that's something. **_

_**Good idea about giving the fake locket to Kreature! He never takes it off and he's been less of a grouch – he actually made us dinner! The house is super clean and he wears a clean pillowcase now instead of that filthy rag that smelled worse than Ron's socks. **_

_**I really miss you, 'Mione, we all do. Even Malfoy, though he doesn't say it. It's just not the same without you. I hope you don't hate me for this arrangement, but I really think it will work – it has been so far, at least. **_

_**I wish I could tell Ginny I miss her. So much. I wish I could write to her, but I don't want to risk the owl. Should we tell her about this? Could we give her an update? I know I left things wrong back at The Burrow and I regret it all now. Hopefully, things can go back to normal once this is all over. **_

Hermione wiped away a tear. She missed them, too. Her heart ached, constantly worrying about them. She had taken to using sleeping draughts from Madam Pomfrey to help her sleep at night. Wiping at her misty eyes, Hermione sniffed once and continued reading the latest message from the trio at Grimwald Place.

_**As for Neville, he should definitely learn to cast the Patronus. Maybe he just needs a different kind of happy memory. Tell him mine – it's just me sitting with my parents talking. It's not technically even real, but the emotion is still there.**_

_**Wish him luck from me. Black can be intimidating, but I'm sure she'd give him a second chance if he really needed it. She can be reasonable.**_

_**Talk soon, 'Mione. Stay safe, stay strong. Love – Harry**_

Clearing away the words, she placed the book away and made her way to the common room. Tonight was the last night Neville had to practice before tomorrow's DADA class, where Professor Black would be testing their Patronuses for the last time. Now she had an _idea_ of how to help Neville, at least. It still surprised her that Black had known she would be the one with the answer – or more likely, Harry by proxy of Hermione.

It was only half passed seven, but the common room was nearly empty. Seamus sat in a corner with a group of other boys. Without Dean, he had been having trouble finding a place, but he had acclimated; hence the new group of lonely teens discussing the absurdity of the rubbish in the _Prophet _and the disgust they held for their new professors and Headmaster. War made quick adults of children.

"Hermione, what am I going to do? It's due tomorrow and I still have no idea how to cast a strong shield-Patronus, let alone a corporeal one!" Neville whined as Hermione approached him and Ginny seated on the sofa in front of the fire.

"I actually had a thought, Neville. Come on, we'll practice in the Room of Requirement," Hermione said, ushering them out the portrait hole and through the deserted corridors.

Making their way to the vanishing room, Hermione was glad Harry had thought to give Ginny the Marauder's Map before leaving – it saved them from meeting up with Filch and a few professors on their way through the school.

Inside the Room, they found it exactly the same as it had been for Dumbledore's Army. At one end of the room, the large hearth burst into flames, beginning to warm the chilly air. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected the fire-light and a warm glow enveloped the room. Taking a deep breath, Hermione felt herself relax.

"I remembered what Harry's memory was," she said, turning to a gloomy Neville. "Only it never happened, so it's not exactly a memory."

Neville looked back at her, his question written plainly on his face. Ginny, at the mention of Harry, began to pay closer attention. "What's his memory?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"It's him sitting with his parents, just sitting and talking; having a conversation. It isn't real, but he says that the emotion is strong enough to produce the full-bodied Patronus," Hermione elaborated. "I want you to think Neville, take as long as you need. Think of a situation that would make you happy – even if it's never happened. Take as long as you need."

For some time, the three of them sat quietly on the mats provided to them by the Room in front of the roaring fire. Every now and again, Hermione would see Ginny wipe under an eye. She longed to comfort her friend and tell her that her boyfriend was safe. Recalling Harry's message, Hermione's heart broke for the couple. She wondered if there was a way to let Ginny know that he cared, that he missed her, that he loved her. She would find a way. The youngest Weasley needed something to lift her spirits; she was falling into a deep dark place in her wondering fear.

An hour passed, maybe two, Hermione wasn't sure. Lying on her mat, she drifted off listening to her friends' breathing and the crackling of the fire. Her imagination played tricks with her semi-conscious thoughts. Behind her eyelids, the world passed in a blur, like she was driving down a fast highway at night, everything outside obscure. And then, from the darkness, a shape began to take form – one from her reality and her nightmares. Curls blacker than night whipped around a face as pale as a ghost's; lips as red as blood stretched into a wide smile. Hermione's gaze lifted to the eyes of the individual, terrified of finding the frigid emptiness in the black orbs. Instead, she saw passion, fire, life, and vigor. Her heart beat faster and her eyes darted back and forth beneath her eyelids.

"I think I've got it."

Sitting bolt upright, Hermione gasped at the sudden rush of reality. _It felt so real… almost like that night but… different… _

"Brilliant, Neville. Are you ready to give it a go?"

The young man nodded and rose from the mat, followed by Ginny and a slightly disoriented Hermione.

Taking a few steps forward, Neville faced the girls with a determined look on his grown-up face. Hermione tried to see the chubby little boy she had helped to find his toad on their first ride on the Hogwarts Express. That Neville no longer existed, she admitted sadly.

Neville raised his wand high, and with the practiced wrist motion, cast the charm. "_Expecto Patronum." _

Suddenly, a silvery form erupted from the tip of his wand. From the usual cloud of wispy moonlight, a creature came forth, brilliant in its splendor and so strong, Hermione felt she could reach out and touch the animal in front of her.

Hermione and Ginny stood in awe as Neville's Patronus took a step forward and shook its head. The creature blinked its eyes – such large, intelligent eyes, it was almost as if Neville had summoned a living, breathing beast before them. Then, Neville lowered his wand, and the creature gave a last look to its creator before slowly vanishing.

"Neville… that was…" Ginny tried to find the words, her brown eyes impossibly wide in shock and admiration.

"Yeah, I know. I did it!" For the first time since their arrival at Hogwarts, a genuine grin of pure elation and pride in himself spread over Neville's face.

Hermione felt as if her heart would burst with happiness and pride for her friend. "What was it you thought of, Neville? Can you tell us?"

Neville nodded and ran a hand through his short hair, which was damp with sweat from the effort of performing the difficult spell. "It was my parents. In a moment of clarity… they looked at me and smiled. Dad said he was proud of me and Mum said she loved me. Then I hugged them, and they hugged me back." Neville's voice had begun to break and crack, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and Hermione felt her own tears trickle down her cheeks. Lunging forward, she wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and sobbed openly into his shoulder.

Stepping forward, Ginny gripped Neville's arm firmly, her own tears shining proudly in her eyes.

Holding Hermione tightly, Neville let his tears fall down his cheeks and soak into Hermione's robes. Never before had he felt this happy, this accomplished, and this loved. This truly was powerful magic.

* * *

"Line up, everyone, you know what today is," Professor Black commanded once the door to her classroom was shut securely and she stood at the front, facing the gaggle of students.

Taking the same places as before, the students prepared themselves for the imminent test. Having already dropped their essays on the professor's desk, this was the moment that would decide if they would pass the unit or fail.

Beginning with the Slytherins on the opposite side of the room, Black made her way from student to student, jotting down on a piece of parchment notes on each student's Patronus. Over the few weeks they had been practicing, most of the students had learned how to perform the strong shield-Patronus and even a few managed full corporeal Patronuses.

Much to Hermione's annoyance, Pansy's ethereal jackal skipped around the room as smug as its caster and Blaise's black stallion clamped around majestically. Much too quickly, Neville found himself face to face with the raven-haired witch.

Professor Black glanced at the young man with no emotion passing over her beautifully sculpted face. "You're up, Longbottom," she said. Behind her, the Slytherins snickered; no one had seen Neville cast his Patronus during the weeks they had been practicing, nothing but the wispy smoke had sprouted from his wand.

Hermione bit her lip to contain her smile. _They're so in for it… _

Quickly squeezing Neville's wrist, Hermione stepped aside to allow enough room for him to cast.

Taking a deep breath, Neville raised his wand. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow from nerves and his palms were damp. Conjuring his memory, Neville felt the feeling envelop his heart and warm his entire being until Gryffindor courage pulsed just beneath his skin.

"_Expecto Patronum." _With the swish of his wand, Neville produced his Patronus. It started out as a simple mist and Hermione heard the Slytherins' snickering turn into full forced guffaws. But they soon quieted. The mist grew thicker and thicker, rising high to the ceiling; a column of shimmering smoke.

Then from the thick of it, emerged a form. A great, large silvery elephant stepped forward from the smoke, its step shaking the room and causing even Professor Black to take several steps back with a startled look on her face and her black eyes wide in shock. Many of the students yelped in surprise and most of them hurriedly backed away from the giant Patronus.

Giant tusks looked as though they could rip clean through a human body – Hermione could hardly believe how _real_ the creature appeared. Shaking its great head, the elephant lifted his trunk and trumpeted loudly. The windows vibrated and students quickly covered their ears.

And then, an even stranger sound filled the room. Professor Bellatrix Black, most feared and revered of all the professors of Hogwarts and famous and powerful ex-Auror, was laughing. It was not her malicious laugh, the one that she used when a student was punished or she was being mischievous. No, this was a purely joyful sound that startled the students nearly as much as Neville's Patronus.

Mirth and excitement filled the woman's impossibly dark eyes and Hermione found herself entrapped by how young joy made her professor look. Her ruby red lips were stretched wide over bright white teeth as the woman laughed and clapped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Fantastic!" she shouted over the sounds of the elephant. "Brilliant! Absolutely wonderful, Longbottom!"

"Looks like we all better watch out, or Neville will set his Patronus on us," Seamus teased, thumping Neville on the back in guy-like manner.

With one last trumpet, Neville allowed his Patronus to reduce back into mist, then disappear completely. One by one, every student began to clap; even the Slytherins gave him a slow acknowledging applause.

Reaching into her robes, Black pulled out a large piece of chocolate and pressed it into Neville's slightly trembling hand. "Well done, Neville. Your parents would be proud," she whispered in the boy's ear. If Hermione had been any further away from him, she would not have heard the compliment, or Neville's quiet, "I know they are," in response.

As the professor moved on, Hermione's eyes followed the mysterious witch. This, to her knowledge, had been the first time she had seen the witch genuinely happy. _Well, first time she was genuinely happy while not terrorising some poor student… _brows slightly furrowed, Hermione studied her professor. Her eyes followed the glossy, unruly curls tumbling down her straight back, robes fitting snugly around a curved figure, covering a tightly laced corset over a black dress and heels _clicking _menacingly against the stone floor. Hermione wondered to herself why she had never before seen the professor as _attractive_, which she most clearly was. Fantastically thick eyelashes framed her black eyes and the paleness of her features was accentuated by the deep blood colour of her lips. The woman almost looked more like a member of the Fae Folk than a witch with her stunning appearance and the constant mischievous glint in her eyes.

* * *

Feeling eyes on her back, the professor casually cast her eyes behind her. _Why the hell is Granger staring at me like that? This girl is just too confusing… have to figure out what's going on with her… _frowning, Bellatrix turned back to the last student's Patronus and then, after congratulating all her students, dismissed them with the promise of an interesting next lesson. She knew exactly what their next object of study would be. _What a perfect way to get inside Granger's head…_

* * *

_**Hermione, we did it! Have you seen the Prophet? 'Undesirable No 1 Harry Potter breaks into Ministry and attacks many well-respected Ministry officials'. Sorry we haven't written in a few days, we'd been swamped with our plan, then were on the run. We found the Polyjuice you packed in Harry's rucksack, we stalked a few Ministry workers and BAM! Stunned them, took their hairs and clothes, and broke into the Ministry!**_

Hermione groaned at Ron's enthusiasm. Of course, she had read the paper – so had the entire school and Wizarding community! Shaking her head, she continued reading Ron's message.

_**I ended up being a janitor or something – I had to fix a rain problem in Yaxley's office. Malfoy tried to give a tip, but nothing worked! Harry was Something Runkhorn, some big guy in Law Enforcement and Malfoy was Umbridge's secretary! Lucky, eh? But none of that really matters because WE GOT THE BLOODY LOCKET! And Harry found Mad-Eye's eye. Creepy, right? Harry's Polyjuice started wearing off too early so we had everyone on our tail while we ran. My 'wife' kissed me and I turned into me while her husband watched… awfully awkward. I hope they got out alright. **_

_**Hi, Hermione, it's Draco. We don't have much time and Ron is taking too long. Anyways, Yaxley ended up grabbing hold of me while we flooed away, so instead of returning to the Black House in London, I thought of someplace off the grid. Ron got splinched, but we fixed it with the Dittany. We've been living in that tent you packed us for the last few nights. Thanks for that, by the way. We've been wearing the locket to keep it safe and it seems to affect our moods negatively. We're still trying to destroy it. We're also working on a new plan to get into the Black Vault. Stay safe, we'll let you know where we are soon. – Draco **_

Hermione quickly wrote a small reply then cleared away the writing and hid the journal in her trunk. Tucking in for the night, Hermione closed her eyes. _I guess I have no choice, now. I need to tell the others we need the sword. _


	14. Chapter 14

"Why didn't you tell us this before?!" Ginny demanded, anger rising behind her warm brown eyes.

Quickly shushing the girl, Hermione cast her eyes suspiciously around the Great Hall, making sure no one was overhearing their conversation. "Because we were busy!" Hermione whispered harshly back to the redhead. "We had to focus on Neville's Patronus; even Harry agreed that we should focus on that –"

"And that's another thing; how come _you've_ been talking to Harry this entire time and didn't mention it to us?"

"Well…"

"Ginny, calm down! I'm sure Hermione wanted to tell us but thought it would be safer not to. I kind of have to agree with her there…" Neville spoke calmly, doing his best to sooth Ginny's ire.

"But –"

"Anyways, you both know now, we can argue later in private," Hermione interrupted, cutting Ginny off before she could start yelling again. "As I was saying, Harry needs the sword of Gryffindor and – before you ask, no, I can't tell you why just yet – I know it's in the headmaster's office. So what we need to do is –"

"Get into Snape's office, steal it, and get it out of the castle so Harry can come and get it," Neville finished for her.

"So we need a plan," Ginny concluded, a frown still set in her features. It would apparently take some time for the redhead to forgive Hermione's secrecy.

"Agreed. But… I think this conversation would be best held where ears aren't as greedy…" Hermione suggested, eyes on the Carrow twins who had just entered the hall with bloodthirsty grins.

* * *

"Go on now, 'Mione. How're we going to get the sword?" Ginny asked some time later. The four of them walked alone along the pebbled beach of the Black Lake all bundled in their scarves, gloves, hats, and winter robes. November had arrived, and with it, winter weather. To Hermione's right, the lake spread out almost to the horizon, partially frozen. Snow crunched beneath her feet. To give her friend credit, Ginny had not badgered her about talking to Harry or their plans for retrieving the sword until this moment, far away from those who would too gladly like to learn of their plans.

"I dare say the easiest way would be to figure out his password and sneak in while we know he's away and steal it before he returns. I could possibly figure out a way to duplicate it, so Snape would have to closely examine the sword to see that it was a replica…" It sounded almost too easy, which caused Hermione to feel unsure of herself. Doubt was never a friend to her.

"Sounds simple enough," Luna agreed, skipping along in the snow a few paces ahead of them.

"Until we find another way, I say we stick to the obvious plan," Neville agreed, watching as Luna bobbed away happily. With her eyes the boy, Hermione wondered how long Neville's crush on the eccentric blonde had been developing. Had she really missed the obvious affection he held for her until now? "But I think we should talk about reforming Dumbledore's Army. Hermione, we need to do more. More and more students are being sent to the Hospital Wing each week because of the Carrows! I heard a third year had to be sent to St. Mungo's because they cornered her in the corridor after dark and tortured her until she told them what she was up to. The poor girl had just returned from a detention! Even Snape was pissed…"

"Yeah, I heard something like that," Hermione said, eyes downcast. Hogwarts was becoming a true house of horrors in the past few weeks. For his part, Snape didn't seem to _encourage _the tormenting of students, but the new headmaster was hardly present enough to keep the Carrows in line. "How should we pass the message along? Does everyone still have their coins or do we have to go around by word of mouth?"

"Actually… most of the Gryffindors already know…" Ginny confessed.

"And the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs! Everyone's really excited," Luna said cheerfully, despite Hermione's deepening scowl of frustration.

"What? You told them?"

"Well, it was Neville's idea! He thought that if more people knew, they could help convince you and we could get started."

"Neville!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I need to do something! I can't just sit around here while Harry and Ron are out there doing whatever it is their doing to help fight against –"

"So you all decided to just go along with it? What if a professor found out – or the Carrows!" Hermione argued fiercely. "This is dangerous! You think it was hard to keep it from Umbridge? It'll be like sneaking around the school with ten of her stalking around! There are _Death Eaters _in the school!"

"We all believe it's worth it, 'Mione. This war that's happening… it's not just out there; it's in here – in Hogwarts – too. We all have to do our part. And just feeding information back to Harry isn't enough." Hermione stared at her friend. Neville was right. Hermione couldn't hide behind her books and cleverness anymore. It was about time she lived up to her Gryffindor heart.

"You're right… of course, you're all right. We'll start this weekend. Round everyone up – we'll meet in the Room of Requirement and start with what Professor Black taught us earlier this term." She could do this… She would do this! She would take Harry's place and teach their friends how to protect themselves against the likes of the Carrows and give them a fighting chance in this war.

"Brilliant!" Neville grinned.

"Finally!" Ginny grabbed her by the arm and shook her excitedly.

"I can't wait to see everyone's Patronuses!" Luna grinned skipping back over to them.

The four friends, all warmed by their newfound purpose, grinned at each other. _Maybe we can do this, protect the school… none of the old professors would stop us… they might actually help us… _Optimistic, Hermione urged them back towards the school, their conversation turning back to the topic of the sword.

And then suddenly, they heard a scream cut through the frigid air, reaching them like an icy wind piercing their skin. Far ahead of them, Hermione saw a few specks in the distance. The shapes of two first or second years stood out plainly against the white background of the school grounds; as was the cloaked shape looming above them.

"NO!" Hermione screamed, breaking into a run.

_Young students like them wouldn't know the charm… they're defenseless… _behind her, Hermione heard her three friends running as well.

She watched as one of the girls fell to the ground and the other kept screaming, louder and louder all the time. _We're not going to make it, _Hermione thought panicked. _Poor girls… going to lose souls… can't let it happen! _

Her breath came in short clouds from her lips and she felt a stitch begin to form in her side. _Have to save them… _

And then, as if materializing from the shadows, a figure dressed entirely in black robes surged forward towards the girls and the Dementor. The figure whipped out their wand; their hood falling back and releasing a cascade of black curls. With a swish, a creature burst from the tip of the wand, running into the wind, on the attack against the Dementor. The skeletal beast flapped its leathery wings ferociously and kicked at the ghostly creature of darkness.

The ethereal Thestral chased away the Dementor, sharp teeth snapping at the billowing cloak until it was not even a black speck in the distance.

The four older students, finally catching up to the scene, all came to a halt, painting and marvelling at Professor Black's Patronus.

The Thestral returned, descending into the snow and galloped around the little crowd and came to rest by the professor's side. Never before had Hermione seen a Patronus behave affectionately towards its wizard as the professor's did, nudging her gently with its muzzle before rushing off again, this time towards the school, Hermione assumed in search of Madam Pomfrey and the other professors.

"You lot, help me lift them; the others will be here soon, but we should start heading back," Black commanded.

"Are they alright?" Luna asked, concern and fear lacing her words, her voice thick with tears.

"They still have their souls if that's what you mean," the professor grunted as she lifted the first girl with Hermione's help while Ginny and Neville held the girl that was still slightly conscious between them. "However, it was far too close. They will be on a chocolate diet for a while and will be staying in the Hospital Wing for some time."

Together, the five of them carried the young girls back to the castle, the professor cursing the living daylights out of Snape and Dementors and anyone who threatened the safety of students.

"Oh, my goodness!" Professor McGonagall gasped as she ran into the unsightly group.

"They're fine, Minerva; just shaken up," Professor Black reassured the Head of Gryffindor as they continued on quickly through the school to the Hospital Wing.

"Severus will have to listen now… this is too much for the students… Hogwarts is meant to be safe!"

"Unfortunately, I do not believe Snape's top priority at the moment is the students' safety," the dark professor snapped so suddenly Hermione nearly dropped the girl she'd been helping the professor carry. "For Merlin's sake… he lets the bloody twins torture the students!" For the remainder of the short journey to Madam Pomfrey's ward, everyone remained quiet. The two young Ravenclaws would occasionally stir or cry out, but otherwise, the group was silent.

"On the beds here, Bellatrix," Madam Pomfrey led them to two beds already prepped with potions and chocolates by the bedsides.

Gently laying both girls down, the three Gryffindors and Luna stepped back to allow Pomfrey to administer her ministrations. "Amanda, dear, you're safe now. You, too, Cleo. Rest," she reassured the girls in a soothing, motherly voice.

"Thank you, you four; you may proceed to the Great Hall for dinner." Understanding Professor McGonagall's words as a dismissal, the four students exited the medical ward and walked along the lonely corridors to dinner, still in shock and adrenalin slowly seeping away.

"Granger!"

Turning back startled, the students paused as Professor Black casually _clicked _her way to them.

"That was an admirable thing you four tried to do," the professor said with a tight smile. "I daresay that if I had not been present, those girls may have been saved by the lot of you. Keep your eyes open; we teachers need more help out there during these times."

Stunned by the compliment from their usually menacing professor, the students nodded and offered weak smiles. For a moment, Hermione felt Black's eyes connect with hers. The witch's gaze was so intense, she had a brief flash-back to the moment Snape stared at her similarly back in his office a few months prior. Then the professor blinked and Hermione shook herself as if she were emerging from a slight daze.

"Go on, off with you now! No loitering in the halls or you know who'll get you…" with those sing-song words, the professor turned her back to the students and set a brisk pace back to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

_If that girl thinks that loud all the time, it's a wonder the Carrows haven't killed her yet! _

Rubbing two fingers against a throbbing temple, Bellatrix attempted to massage away her headache. Alone in her quarters, the raven-haired witch sat at her small dining table by the window studying her course plans for the seventh years.

_She has to learn how to control her thoughts more… same with those friends of hers, if they know anything important… those twins are going to eat them alive when they start getting suspicious of the students. _

Closing her eyes, Bellatrix thought back to the image she had briefly glimpsed inside the Muggle-born's mind earlier that evening.

_The sword of Gryffindor in Snape's office… a page from a book… 'Goblin steel only takes in that which makes it stronger'… a diary… something dark, dark magic being broken and destroyed… _

It was all too much! How on earth could her student have so many thoughts running through her head at a time? _It's a miracle the girl hasn't gone mad… _

_Like you? _

_She certainly has a busy mind-voice like mine… _

_She just keeps herself occupied with learning… take that away, what's left for the active mind? _

Sighing, Bellatrix made a small note to her plans. Yes, she would have to begin this lesson soon, and find a way to teach Granger more in-depth…

_Could always give the girl detention to teach her… so simple and so effective. _

Smirking, she made another note and took a sip from her hot tea. The cold days were nothing compared to the recent nights, and with her rising stress, Bellatrix found it prudent to keep more alert than her usual consumption of Firewhiskey normally allowed.

Making one final note, Bellatrix pushed back from the table and gazed out the window. The darkness was all-consuming. Beyond the lamplight offered by the school, Bellatrix could see nothing but blackness until the faint glow from Hagrid's cabin, and then nothing after that.

Normally on a Saturday night, she would be out roaming the halls, looking for any unsuspecting students sneaking out of their common rooms for a late-night get together with a sweetheart or to pull a practical joke. These days, she found her list of victims depressingly short. However, she was glad her students were smart enough not to risk being caught out of bed by the Carrows. Their idea of detention was something that curdled even Bellatrix's stomach of steel.

_Hogwarts has changed, Bella, the world is changing and you – the once great Auror and most feared professor – are pretty much powerless against it. This all rests in the hands of a few of your students… bloody hell, we're doomed. _


	15. Chapter 15

Neville arrived for breakfast with his face paler than usual that November morning a few days after the attack of the Dementor. Seating himself across from Hermione and Ginny, he spooned scrambled eggs onto his plate with a distant look.

"Nev, is everything alright? You look like you've just seen a Boggart," Ginny asked with a concerned frown.

"More or less… Bumped into Snape in the corridor on my way here."

"'Bumped' as in walked quietly by or…" Hermione implored for details.

"No, _bumped _as in ran smack into and fell over in front of, actually," he answered and took a bite. The food seemed to help calm his nerves slightly. Neville had been petrified of Snape ever since their first year and now, with his new rise to power and his obvious allegiances, his fear of the professor had only grown.

"Bloody hell… lucky he didn't give you a month's worth of detention," Ginny said wide-eyed.

"Nearly did… he said he would want me to have detention with him _personally _so he could make me suffer like I deserved, but he would be away from the school tonight and for the next week so he said to watch myself. And then he insulted me as usual…Merlin, I hate that stare he has – it feels like he's looking directly into your heart to see your fear." He shivered.

"Wait – what?" Slapping both hands on the table, Hermione's strong gaze locked onto an even more startled Neville.

"He's not going to be here for a week?!" Ginny asked, a wicked smile forming on her lips and fire lighting in her eyes.

"We could take the sword!" Luna cried excitedly, taking a seat beside Neville.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh!"

"I say we go tomorrow night," Ginny suggested in a low voice. "That way we know he'll be gone by then."

"Agreed," Hermione said while Neville and Luna nodded in agreement. "Tomorrow at midnight we take back the sword of Gryffindor and get it to Harry."

* * *

"Luna, quiet!" Ginny hissed to the humming blonde as the four of them snuck through the corridors in the dark. Too fearful to use wands to light their way through the corridors, they walked along using the stone walls as their guide, occasionally dipping behind a statue to check the Marauder's Map by wand light and then continuing on in the dark.

Reaching the Gargoyle, the four students paused; three of them had not thought of the password they would need to enter the headmaster's office. Luckily, however, Hermione was prepared.

"Bezoar," she whispered and the little stone man hopped aside to allow them entrance.

The three others turned and stared at the seventh year, but she could not see the looks of surprise and admiration on their faces in the darkness of the corridor.

"Professor McGonagall said it rather loudly when she escorted me to my meeting with Snape," she explained into the confused silence. She chuckled internally at the _hmm_s and _huh_s of sudden understanding from her friends.

Now using wand light, they climbed the staircase quickly, taking the steps two at a time. This would be the worst place to be caught… Snape would gladly hand them over to the Carrows for detention, of that Hermione was positive. Lifting a hand for the others to stop, she pressed her ear against the keyhole of the grand oak doors, listening for any sign that Snape was still in his office. Hearing nothing, she went on to the next step of her plan. Thankfully, the door opened silently. Opening it a crack, Hermione was just able to peer inside. It appeared empty, but…

"_Homonum Revelio," _she whispered. The spell gave no indication of any human presence behind the door. "It's clear."

They entered the room as silent as shadows. Hermione lead the way over to the side of the grand circular room filled with odd contraptions. Over the fireplace, the sword of Gryffindor shone brightly in the wand-light.

"Almost," Neville whispered, eyes glued to Hermione's rising hand. Grinning madly at their success, Hermione grasped the hilt of the sword. The leather was soft beneath her hand; worn from years of being handled by countless Gryffindors. Lifting it from its place, the heavy sword swung down, nearly catching her in the leg, and then hitting the carpeted floor in front of the hearth with a soft _thunk._

"We did it!" Luna whispered excitedly, hoping in place.

"You most certainly did."

Suddenly, a brilliant light shone through the room, blinding the four students. Covering her eyes, Hermione dropped the sword and stumbled back. _Oh bugger… _

"Now, what could four mature students such as yourselves be doing out of bed and in my office so late at night?" Snape drawled, stepping forward from the deepest shadows.

"How? Her spell…"

"You do not believe that I am capable enough to cloak myself from a simple Revealing Charm, Miss Weasley? I am insulted, truly." If Snape truly was hurt by the insinuation, his face betrayed no such emotion. The tall, dark wizard lowered his wand and stood imposingly before them. "I am so very disappointed in all of you. Did you really think that I would accidentally let slip to Longbottom that I would be absent from the school, therefore giving you the perfect opportunity to steal the sword from my office?" From behind him, two distinct laughs echoed from the darkness. The forms of the Carrows came forth into the light, both twins wearing identical grins filled with malice.

"What d'you reckon they want with that sword, Snape? Bit ambitious for a prank…" The light from Snape's wand shone onto Alecto's face. Her eyes remained in shadow, and Hermione had a sickening recollection of the empty eye-sockets of Dementors.

"Gryffindors, they always act and never think… 'cept for that Ravenclaw there – that Loony? Blimey, she would be the one to come along, eh?" Amycus laughed as he and his sister circled around Snape to surround the students from three sides and trapping them with the fireplace to their backs. "Potter's crew… say, could they be up to something more, maybe for him?"

"What do you say, Severus? Give 'em to us for a bit of detention tomorrow night? That'll teach 'em better than to sneak into the headmaster's office and steal his things." Alecto's smile held a sick joy and Hermione felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of detention with them.

"Calm your bloodthirst, Alecto, they are but children…" Snape spoke slowly and casually, as if his decision meant nothing to their safety. "I believe these rather unintelligent students were under the impression that a _Slytherin _Headmaster had no right holding the most precious sword of Gryffindor in his study. And so, they elected to steal it from me and return it to a more fitting place." Snape's smile was slick and serpentine. None of the students acknowledged his claim to their actions. _Of course, it is a fairly convincing story, _Hermione thought. _Better than him knowing the truth…_

"So they're going to get off easy then?"

"No, they each lose twenty house points for being out of bed and another fifty for being in my office. They will also have detention, but with neither of you. I am especially disappointed in you, Granger. As Head Girl I expected my trust to be earned, but you have proven yourself to be a bad influence on your peers. Longbottom, Weasley, Lovegood, you three will have detention in the forest; I will inform that oaf of a Gamekeeper. As for you, Miss _Granger_, I will find someone suitable for you to serve your detention with. Now leave and back to your beds before I forget how generous I am!"

Not waiting to be told another time, the four students ran from the office, the sound of the Carrows' laughter following them down the circular staircase.

"Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody HELL!" Ginny cursed as they hurried back to the Gryffindor common room. Luna had separated from them earlier on to make her way to her own common room. "The bastard tricked us!"

"Ginny! Keep your voice down," Neville pleaded. All they needed now was to be caught out of bed after hours again and cursing their Headmaster to boot.

"Yes, he tricked us. But that means that he found out about our plans somehow!" Hermione told them.

"How? We were quiet; we talked about it outside…" Ginny argued.

"He tried teaching Harry Occlumency last year… he probably used Ligilimency to learn what we had been thinking about recently. We knew we had to be careful…" Hermione chastised herself for not thinking of that possibility sooner.

"But not even safe inside our own minds?" Neville asked. "He probably saw when I ran into him! I ruined it, I had been thinking about how to get the sword and then –"

"Neville, relax, it wasn't your fault, it could have been any of us!" Hermione reassured her poor friend. "We'll just have to work on keeping our minds occupied with meaningless thoughts while around the professors. And anyways, we got lucky tonight. He didn't look deep enough to see why we were stealing the sword, he had his own idea."

"Yeah, suppose we were lucky for that," Ginny agreed glumly.

* * *

_We didn't get the sword. Snape caught us. I'm sorry, boys, we'll find something. Stay safe. My love –Hermione_

* * *

_Detention from Prof Snape tonight at 8. Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Don't be late. – Prof.B._

It had been three days since their attempt at stealing the sword and Hermione just now received her punishment. She stared at the note left by a house-elf on her bedside table. _Bloody hell._ _I_ _have detention with Professor Black while the others got to spend last night with Hagrid in the forest searching for the newest family of Thestrals. It's completely unfair! _

Pouting like a kindergartener, Hermione dressed in her robes and grabbed her school bag already packed for the day's classes. She trudged from her room down to breakfast, her originally good humor completely evaporated.

"Hey, 'Mione, how's it… oh…" Neville's hand stilled mid-wave as he caught sight of the dark look on his friend's face. "W-what's up?"

"Well, since you asked, Neville." Hermione dropped her heavy bag on the table, earning curious looks from Seamus and Colin and a glare from Lavender as she spilled her juice. "I have my detention tonight. With Professor Black."

"Ohhhh…" Neville and Ginny looked away from the cross brunette, turning their attention to anything but her fuming eyes. Even Luna simply sipped a glass of juice quietly, her bright blue eyes expressing sympathy.

"Maybe she won't be so mean," Ginny said in a fake hopeful voice. Hermione's glare silenced her instantly and she turned back to her toast.

"This is the woman who had Fred and George clean the entire Trophy Room _twice_ because Fred accidently sneezed. She had Ron feed her pet Grindillow – he had marks for ages. And she had Harry diving into the Black Lake for seashells in October!"

"Granger!"

Hermione flinched into her cup as the sound of heels travelled towards her from the professors' table.

"I trust you got my note," Professor Black said, looking down at the young witch.

"Yes, I did, Professor," Hermione responded, careful to keep any rising fear from her voice. It never ended well when Black knew you were afraid.

"Excellent. I expect you to not be tardy; it might result in extra detentions." The raven-haired witch examined her long nails casually.

"Yes, Professor."

"Well then, until tonight, Granger. I look forward to this; I do have so many things planned for you. And bring a warm cloak!" With a sly grin, the dark witch turned on her heels and returned to the professors' table, the last comment thrown over her shoulder.

Hermione slowly turned back to her friends, all of whom were giving her looks of deep sympathy. Black was excited. This meant nothing good.

"I'm buggered."

* * *

"The spell _Crinus Muto _shall be tested during your N.E. , both in practice and theory. Therefore I expect each and every one of you to be able to transfigure your hair blue by the end of class." Hermione's Transfiguration class proceeded normally. Everyone was particularly somber – the approaching winter cast everything in gray and the wind whipped around wildly, tearing the leftover leaves from their branches and shaking the window panes violently.

But Professor McGonagall was resolute in having her class stay as normal as possible. Around the room, her students began their practice, various heads turning various shades of blue, purple, and turquoise. The howling wind grew louder. Hermione could swear it sounded like a person wailing in the distance.

They all continued practicing and casually talking amongst themselves. And then everyone flinched. Down the hall, they could all hear the unmistakable screeching of the Carrow twins yelling at their newest victim. This not being out of the ordinary, they all attempted to ignore the sounds, until the yelling was drowned out by screams of pain.

"No, no, no, no no no no, absolutely not!" their professor muttered as she stormed out into the hall, the door banging off the wall in her haste. "This is not how we discipline here at Hogwarts, Professors!" They heard her shriek.

"These little pieces of shite deserved it!" Amycus yelled back. They could all imagine the look of hatred on his face as he spoke to McGonagall.

"I know for a fact that Professor Snape has disallowed you to perform this blatant form of torture in the halls!"

"We do not answer to him!" Alecto screamed.

"We answer only to the Dark Lord!" her brother added fiercely.

"And _he_ has placed _Severus_ in charge of _you_!"

"Well, what are you going to do, kitty-cat?" Alecto laughed.

Hermione choked. Not even Umbridge had dared to insult McGonagall so openly.

"If you dare to harm my students again, you shall find that this _cat _still has sharp claws." The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck rose and a shiver ran down her spine at the malice in her professor's voice. It was a threat. It was a promise. The words cut through the air like steel knives, each one laced with venom. Then there were the sounds of hushed whispers, quiet sobbing, and shuffling feet as McGonagall ushered the traumatized students into her class.

Three third-year Hufflepuffs entered with red-rimmed eyes. Without another word, McGonagall slammed her door shut and locked it. If they wanted to, the Carrows could get in easily, but the motion seemed to reassure the frazzled professor.

Hermione watched as her favourite professor quickly wiped a single tear from her cheek then turned to the rest of the class. She conjured a small couch for the new arrivals and a large plate of shortbread cookies appeared on her desk.

"I think that will be enough practice for the day," she said softly. She cleared her throat and with a wave of her wand, the cookies were distributed throughout the shocked classroom. "In times like these, we all need to be strong and, despite our fears, we need to have the courage to continue to fight for what is right."


	16. Chapter 16

The situation with Professor McGonagall left Hermione shaken for the rest of the day. As she walked to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, the darkest shadows seemed to follow her, to reach out to her, wanting to wrap her in cold and darkness. She pulled her warm cloak tighter around herself.

It was a surprising relief when she rounded the final corner and found the lamp in the Defense Hall still burning brightly outside the classroom.

Hermione knocked twice then pushed the door open, only to be knocked aside as her professor pushed past dressed in a long, dark travelling cloak.

"Keep up, Granger."

Nearly jogging to keep up with her professor's quick strides, Hermione followed obediently. She stuck close to the woman. The power issuing from the older witch was warm; it wrapped her in a cocoon of safety and chased away the deepest, scariest shadows.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"On a treasure hunt." Hermione rolled her eyes at her professor's childish response, but she refrained from pressing for details. Professor Black was often vague and cryptic when I amused her.

Exiting the castle, the professor led Hermione down to the Black Lake. The young witch had a sudden fear – would she really make her swim in November?

Once on the pebbled shore, Black produced a basket and told Hermione to begin by gathering the algae that grew on one patch of rock in particular near the water's edge. Once that was finished, Hermione followed the woman into the Forbidden Forest. They walked in silence for nearly twenty minutes before Black stopped beside a small patch of what Hermione identified as moly – a small plant with cute little white flowers and a black stem. She kneeled down on the frozen ground and went to pull the flower up by grabbing the stem.

"Only pull it by the stem if you feel like cutting open your hands, Granger," Professor Black said at the last minute. "They may have cute little flowers, but the stems are as sharp as steel until the roots leave the soil."

"Then how am I supposed to pull them out?"

In answer, a small spade appeared half in the ground next to her knee. "Happy digging." Her professor moved away to examine a few other plants as Hermione did her best to pierce the frozen ground.

From the forest, Hermione gathered a coil of Devil's Snare – with which she impressed the professor by using sunlight to petrify it so it would not strangle her as she used the professor's dagger to cut through the vine – root and berries of dogwood, flowers from a flutterbury bush, deep purple unicorn excrement's that smelled like candied beets – Hermione nearly dropped the clumps when Professor Black deigned to inform her of what she was handling and then proceeded to laugh like a child having succeeded a prank.

Despite the cold and the laborious tasks, Hermione was enjoying her detention. The professor would now and again drop information that was new to Hermione, like little breadcrumbs of knowledge for her to follow through the forest. Always the little bookworm and constantly hungry for knowledge, she greedily soaked it all in and did not complain.

Black smirked at the way the girl eagerly gathered her ingredients. _Such a little nerd. _

"So, what are all these for?" the young woman asked as she placed a vial of Cedar sap in the basket.

"Potion ingredients. With a war coming, there's no way I'm going to let my personal stores suffer," her professor answered, inspecting the contents of her basket.

"Why not ask Professor Spout for a few ingredients? I know she grows this moss and dogwood saplings in her greenhouses."

"She's good, quite the green thumb, but nothing compares to naturally grown. Take a look at the dogwood root here. You say she has saplings? This root is from a tree that is older than Dumbledore was. To get the same effect, I would have to use cups from the sapling instead of a small teaspoon from this one."

"I had no idea…" Hermione whispered in awe.

"Few do. Pomona knows, but she prefers to play it safe. The older the root, the more potent and unpredictable it will be in the potion. Risky business."

"Then why do you use it?"

"What's life without a little risk?" The professor said with a smirk and a wink. "My potioneering skills are good enough to trust."

"You were good in Potions? You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor – "

"Does that mean I should be inept in all other subjects? I set records with my O. and N.E. . I could teach any of these subjects! I _chose_ Defense because of my field experience. Plus D – "

"Dumbledore?" Hermione pushed. She instantly regretted it. She saw the walls immediately erect themselves behind black eyes and all emotion drained from the professor's porcelain face.

"He just supported the idea that I teach the subject," she said neutrally.

"Oh." Sighing, Hermione followed the witch through the forest until she could begin to see the castle through the trees; they were nearly out. "Where are we going now? Is this all?" she asked.

"Not quite. Follow, Granger."

They exited the forest and walked like ghosts across the grounds. Hermione felt the bite in the November air, but there was more. It was a deeper cold than winter could ever produce.

"Dementors," she whispered, sliding up closer to her professor, her eyes on the slightly overcast sky.

"Don't worry, Granger, they can't get you." The words were said so softly, Hermione would have missed them had she not been walking so close to the woman. Pulling her wand from her robes, Professor Black conjured her Patronus.

A warm blanket dropped around Hermione's shoulders and the chill from the Dementors vanished. Even the winter wind seemed milder. "I didn't know Patronuses could take the form of magical creatures," she said.

"They're rare but possible. Less rare than a magical animagus but rare nonetheless. Dumbledore's Patronus was a phoenix," the professor explained in her teacher voice.

"Why is yours a Thestral? What makes a witch or wizard different from the others?"

"I don't know, maybe I'm just special," she said with a quirk of her lip.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the smugness of the witch. The Patronus remained their escort through the grounds, walking slowly in front of them, guiding their way, until both witches passed the gates and the two hog statues marking the border of the school.

"Take my arm, Granger," Professor Black ordered.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking up into the dark eyes of the witch.

"Do you want to stay here and ask questions or see something new?"

With a sigh, Hermione placed her hand on her professor's forearm and waited for the uncomfortable tug behind her navel from the Apparition.

They landed on soft ground. Looking around, Hermione realised that they stood on the edge of a shadowy bog. "What do we need from here?"

The professor chuckled low in her throat; it was cute the girl thought of them as a _we _on this expedition. "Such a curious little one... We're here for the frogs."

"Frogs?"

"Mhmm. We are outside Burrowbridge, in the swamp called Athelney. Muggles see this and think swamp filled with frogs, snakes, and leeches." Hermione shivered. She wasn't exactly fond of those creatures. "But everything here feeds off the magic of the area. The frogs secrete mucus that is quite useful."

"Useful for what?"

"So many questions! For skin cream, little witch. Ever wonder why I look so young?" From her pocket, Black produced rubber gloves and galoshes, using magic to return them to their normal size. Handing them to Hermione, she then took a seat on a fallen tree trunk. "Have fun," she said with a wide grin.

"Beg pardon?"

"I want six frogs. Catch them. Be quick – we have somewhere to be before midnight."

_Time for questions is over, I guess._ Hermione pulled on the apparel and rolled her shoulders and took the first step into the mucky water. "Smells like feet…" she grumbled, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"That would be the part magic and part natural decay smell. Make it snappy!"

So Hermione watched the edge of the swamp, waiting for something to move. One of the weeds suddenly shook and little ripples spread through the water. Hermione lunged forward, but missed the first frog and grabbed a handful of mud and muck. To her left, she saw another. She lunged, slipped – one knee fell into the muddy water, but she managed to capture the slippery little amphibian. She squished up the bank to her professor and dropped the frog into a little glass aquarium.

"Five more," the professor said smugly.

Hermione returned to the water. Many slips, trips, falls, muttered curse words, and a near encounter with a snake Hermione would swear was the size of a python, the young witch emerged from the swamp soaking wet and covered in mud with her last frog. "Done," she said with a triumphant grin.

"Well, that was very Muggle."

"You said catch them!"

"I did, but I would have expected a witch to use her wand." The professor stood from her perch, ignoring the little witch's frustrated sputtering. She held out her arm to the witch. "Come now, pet, we don't have all night. Be mad at me later."

Face set in a sturdy frown, Hermione gripped the offered arm and they Disapparated.

They appeared in a field and Hermione had to take a breath. She really did not like Apparating.

Next to her, her professor shuffled away a few paces, her face wrinkling into a regal grimace if ever there was one. "You smell like feet."

Mouth agape, Hermione wanted to scream at the witch, but the dark-haired woman simply said _tut_ and walked on through the field.

"This looks like a wheat field," she mumbled after a few minutes of silence.

"For now."

The two witches waited in silence and the minutes pass by. Black checked a surprisingly Muggle-looking pocket watch and smiled. "Three, two, one."

Light bloomed all around them – a soft, yellow light. The wheat began to glow and suddenly morphed into long stemmed flowers as yellow as daffodils.

"_Luna Lilies," _her professor explained once again in her teacher voice. "They bloom only once a month, on the full moon and only when the moon shines brightly in the sky. The catch is they bloom on a different continent each month. They like fields and camouflage as regular plants until it's time to bloom – usually wheat, corn or long grass."

"How did you know they would bloom here?"

"I've been tracking them since about when I started teaching. Stumbled upon them once when I was a young Auror and never saw them again. Then one day a few years later, I heard Pomona talking to Poppy; Poppy asked if they could home-grow them for healing potions for the students. It would be very difficult and not nearly as powerful as the natural form. Then I figured out their pattern, found a field that wasn't owned or planted by any farmers and waited. Now hurry, they only bloom for an hour and there have been clouds in the sky all day – they'll cut into our harvest time." Taking out another vial, she demonstrated how to scrape out the seed pods, pluck the petals, and how to squeeze the juice from the stem. Hermione repeated the process under supervision and once the professor was satisfied, they each went to their own plants. They had not been gathering for twenty minutes before the clouds covered the moon and the flowers began to wilt and turn back into stalks of wheat.

"_Luna Lilies…" _Hermione mused to herself.

"I'm not the only one who hunts them. An old friend of mine had been tracking their migrations long before I started. Pandora Lovegood, née Silverman."

"Lovegood? Luna…"

"Yes, Luna's mother. Of course she named her little blonde girl after the most mysterious of magical flowers. Better than Dirigible Plumb though…"

"You knew her?" Hermione questioned, intrigued.

"Like I said, we were friends. Brilliant witch, very gifted in spells and potions. Such an ambitious Slytherin. Which ended up getting her in trouble in the end…" Shaking her head as if she could dispel the sad memories, Black packed everything into her basket. "Come on," she sighed. "I could use a pick me up."

"A what?"

"A pick me up – a drink! Keep up, pet!" She held out her arm for a third time and Hermione took the limb. They _popped_ away and reappeared a few feet away from the entrance to the Three Broomsticks. Hermione went to enter the pub, but the professor held her back firmly.

"You really think Rosemarta will let you sit in her pub looking and smelling like that?" She waved her wand and magically, Hermione's clothes dried and most of the mud and muck vanished, leaving only a few dried stains. "Here." The woman then pulled off her cloak and wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders.

Taking a breath, Hermione inhaled the unique smell of the witch; pine needles, spice, and an intoxicating perfume. Her head spun slightly.

Together, they entered the pub and headed to the back where they would be mostly hidden from view. There were few people in the pub. Most were drunk and loud or sleeping on their stools. Not many people ventured out at night these days. A server came up to them and, before Hermione could speak, her professor ordered a glass of Firewhsikey and two glasses of elvish wine.

Hermione's eyes flickered horrified between the retreating server and the woman seated across from her.

"What?" Black asked, confused.

"Wine? Are you sure, I mean, you're my professor and –"

"You're of age! We're just two witches having a drink. Relax, pet, you're too uptight." _She better drink the bloody wine… I need this girl drunk; at least tipsy… this girl will finally talk. _

They sat in silence until their drinks arrived with the same server. The young man left and Bellatrix lifted her Firewhiskey to her lips and watched as the young witch took a tentative sip of the wine. Seemingly pleased with the sweet flavor, she took two larger sips before replacing the glass on the slightly sticky table. With a small smirk hidden behind her own glass, Bellatrix downed her whiskey in one shot and kept a straight face as the liquid burned a trail of fire down her throat, through her chest, and into her stomach. Licking her lips, she then took up her wine casually, swirling the blood-coloured beverage around and watching as the light played tricks.

The two witches sat contently, each enjoying their wine. As Bellatrix watched, Hermione grew more and more relaxed – almost in accordance with the amount of liquid disappearing from her glass. Bellatrix called for two more glasses and waited for them to arrive before setting her plan in motion.

"So did you enjoy your detention, Granger? Be careful of your answer – if you liked it too much, I'll have to give you a real one. Can't have your big mouth tarnishing my sinister reputation," the dark witch chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

The girl laughed softly, eyes on her glass. "It was… informative."

"Cheeky witch. If I had Weasel collect my ingredients for me, I'd never hear the end of his whining!" This made the brunette laugh a little louder, which Bellatrix took as an encouraging sign that the girl was becoming more comfortable and would soon open up.

"If it's not eating or playing Quidditch, he thinks it's torture!"

"But not you," Bella observed as she leaned back against the cushioned back of their booth. "Hard to believe how much you enjoy learning."

"Many think I should have been in Ravenclaw," she admitted.

"Ravenclaws are curious creatures and seek knowledge, yes, but not all of them are what I would call _intelligent. _At least not to your level. Lockheart is a prime example."

"I like doing my best," Hermione said after a small sip. "I work hard to prove myself worthy of being here – worthy of being a witch." Bellatrix frowned at the sudden turn of their conversation. _This was meant to compliment the girl, not bring her down and shut her up! _

Chuckling softly, Bella shook her head at the young woman. "You're such a nerd," she said in the same tone she did when seeing Hermione's Patronus for the first time; it was warm and soft, tinged with pride.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Nerd, know-it-all…"

"Even from your friends?" she enquired.

"Ron was horrible, but Harry encouraged me most times. They certainly appreciated it when I helped them with their homework."

"I knew those two idiots couldn't have passed that essay on Inferi on their own!"

"Probably not… sorry," she apologised sheepishly.

"Oh well, I should have known. If they were still here, I would have kept a closer eye on them. Don't have to worry 'bout that now, though," she said, carefully watching the young woman's face drop.

"I guess not." Hermione took a large sip from her glass.

"I was surprised when I didn't see them back here. I was under the impression that Potter wanted to become an Auror."

"He does," Hermione confirmed. Immediately after speaking, she felt her face warm. She shouldn't be talking about Harry or Ron! _Stop talking, Granger, before you give something away!_

"Hard to believe," the professor shrugged. "You need N.E. to be accepted into Auror training. Must have been something pretty important that kept them away this year."

"Every Death Eater within Apparating distance would have killed him if he showed up…" Hermione muttered into her glass, choking on the sweet alcohol. _I didn't want to say that!_ _Shut up, idiot! _She scolded herself as she took another drink. She had to learn to keep her mouth shut; it'll get her into trouble if she constantly came to the defense of her friends.

"Right you are," Black agreed. "To be honest, pet, you surprised me as well." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the surface on the table.

In an attempt to avoid the piercing black eyes of the woman sitting across from her, Hermione looked down. She felt her face redden.

_Bloody corsets! _

Without her cloak – the smell of which Hermione could still detect from around her shoulders – her professor sat in her usual black dress and laced corset. Hermione had never before noticed how the outfit accentuated her rather attractive breasts.

_Pale like cream, they look like two of the softest things in the world… wait what?_

She pressed a cool hand to her heated cheeks and took the last gulp of her wine – anything to distract her from the arousal building inside her. _Well… this is new. _

She kept her eyes on the table instead. She traced old ring marks left by several glasses with her finger. She absently heard the professor call for two more glasses of wine, which Hermione quickly accepted the second they arrived.

Watching the witch play with the marks on the table, Bellatrix felt her patience wearing thin. _She was supposed to open up, confess! Instead she crawled back into the little shell… enough with subtle prying, I'm done with games. _

"What are you doing here, Granger?" she demanded suddenly.

"What?" The young woman looked up, as startled as a rabbit faced with a fox. If Bellatrix hadn't been so annoyed, she might have found the reaction adorable.

"Why are you here at school and not off with Potter and Weasley?"

Panic rose in Hermione's heart and her mind went blank. _Shit shit shit shit what do I say! _"Ron's home sick and I don't know where Harry is." _A half-truth is a good start… _

"Bullshit."

"There was a mandate that – "

"I'm aware."

"I wanted to finish my last year and graduate!" Hermione rambled on and on and then clammed up, pressing her lips into a line to force herself to shut up. She took another sip of wine to calm down; keeping her eyes firmly away from her professor beautiful, mind-muddling breasts.

Sighing, Bellatrix took another sip of wine. _Time to pull back then… if I ever have to know what's going on, it'll have to wait until she trusts me more._

_Or more drunk_, another part of her mind whispers.

_Shut up, this was already a big enough risk._

Shaking the voices quiet, Bella passed her hand over the table to clasp Hermione's. "You know you can trust us, Hermione," she said softly.

The brunette looked up, surprised by the softness of the tone and the use of her first name. Their eyes locked and Hermione swallowed. "I can't trust anyone," she said.

"I could help. Whatever Potter's up to, I could – "

"You have no idea…" Hermione interrupted shakily.

Bellatrix let out a breath. So much fear, so much responsibility, and so much strength all in the eyes of one young witch. She looked away, she couldn't bear that look. "It's really that secret?"

"Yes," was the simple and definite answer. Hermione kept her eyes on the professor's solemn face, seeking for any hint of trickery or deceit to tell her if the witch was lying about her trustworthiness. She eyed the witch's lips. Full, red, wet from the wine. _They probably taste like the wine… _

"Alright," Black said finally with a sigh. "Better get you back. Don't want you falling asleep in my class tomorrow. For that I would definitely give you another detention."


	17. Chapter 17

Bellatrix stumbled slightly under the added weight of the young witch. Her grand master plan had not taken into consideration the possibility of getting the girl so drunk she would be stumbling up to the castle.

"Damn it, Granger, you're such a lightweight," she muttered as her breath came in uneven pants.

"Am not – it was the wine. Elf-fish wine is strong," Hermione slurred indignantly in response.

Grumbling, the two of them struggled back up the cobblestone path to the castle. At some point, while they had been drinking, it had started to snow. _And I just had to give her my bloody cloak!_ Snowflakes fell from the overcast sky in a flurry deluge, silencing the world beneath a heavy blanket of white. Individual crystals collected in Bella's exposed hair, like twinkling stars trapped in an inky night sky.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, they climbed up the snow-covered front steps of the school and pushed past the large front doors after Bellatrix muttered the incantation to unlock them. Hermione cursed venomously at the last step for tripping her.

"Granger, shh!"

"Who goes there?!" shouted a grumpy, croaky voice from the shadows. Filch shuffled into the entrance bearing a lantern high in his fist, his beloved cat hot on his heels.

"It's me, Filch. I'm just returning from giving Granger here a well-deserved detention. You can go back to grooming your cat in peace; I will just escort her back to her dormitory." Bellatrix could not be more grateful to the young witch for pretending to be sober as the two of them walked up the grand staircase towards Gryffindor Tower with Filch watching their retreating backs.

Once rounding the first corner, however, the little drunken mess could not maintain her composure any longer and burst into a fit of giggles, which Bella found contagious. "Shut up, you fool; he'll hear!" she hissed, covering the young woman's mouth with her hand. The girl huffed annoyed and mumbled something behind her hand with an odd glint in her eyes. "What?" she asked, removing her hand.

Suddenly, Hermione's face was a breath away from her own. Bellatrix could smell the wine on the girl, mixed with Hermione's own scent. _Lilac and vanilla? _

"You smell good," the girl whispered in her ear, causing goosebumps to rise on the professor's body. _What the hell? _The girl then fell into a second fit of giggles.

Shaking her head, Bellatrix took the girl by the wrist and pulled her along the corridors and up all the stairs. Again, the trip took longer than necessary, what with Hermione stumbling on every other step and stopping to talk to any portrait that was still awake – even to some that weren't.

Once they finally made it to the Fat Lady, Bellatrix supplied the password and they crawled inside – Hermione on her hands and knees since she also tripped over the entrance.

The dark-haired witch thanked Merlin that the common room was deserted as they emerged. _Already 3:34? Damn. _

With one arm around the girl's waist, Bella led her up the stairs to her private room – the Head Girl's room. Once again, another stroke of luck that the girl had her own room. Stepping into the room, she was shocked to see that the prim and proper witch was actually a bit of a slob when it came to her own personal space. Books lay open on every surface, loose papers were scattered around, and clothes were dropped on the chair in the corner.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you, pet?" she whispered more to herself than to the drunken girl in her arms.

Stepping up to the bed, Bellatrix dropped the girl on the quilted afghan spread out over the bed. "Come on, now, crawl in."

"I need my pyjamas!" Hermione insisted with a petulant look that caused Bella to scoff and lift a single eyebrow. The corner of her red lips lifted ever so slightly.

"Okay, fine, where are they?" she asked, arms crossed as if she was speaking to a stubborn child.

"Over there on the chair. The white tank top and pink shorts." She pointed to the chair.

Bella took the few steps over to retrieve both items and when she turned back, she nearly dropped them on the floor. "What the – " Standing beside the bed, Hermione had begun to undress without so much as a warning. Of their own accord, black eyes roamed over the form in front of her. The skin was so smooth and blemish free, devoid of any wrinkle or scar. Quickly she shoved the clothes into the girl's hands and turned her back before the girl dropped any undergarments.

"You can look now," Hermione said after a moment.

Bellatrix turned. The girl was stunning, she had to admit. The pink shorts fit her snugly around the bottom and the white tank top left little to imagine about the shape of her torso. The witch's skin was still rosy from the cold and alcohol, which gave her young body a look of vigor and vitality Bella felt the desire to devour. _What the fuck stop it! _

"Well, go on, climb in," she said pulling back the sheets and pushing the girl into bed.

Hermione obliged, turning the professor's push into a happy pounce and snuggled under the layers of blankets, smiling up at the older woman. The moment her head hit the pillow, brown eyes began to droop and grow heavy with sleep.

Expertly tucking the blankets around the young woman, Bellatrix made to leave the room and let the witch fall asleep.

"What, you get me drunk and you don't even steal a goodnight kiss?"

Spinning on her heels, Bellatrix stalked back to the side of the bed, watching as the girl smiled sleepily. _Relax, Bella, it was a joke. Not that I'd stop _you_ if you tried, though, little witch…_ _ENOUGH!_

Bellatrix took a deep breath and shook her head. _She's drunk, tired, and joking… just let it go, Bella. _"Takes a lot more than that to get a kiss out of me, Granger."

"Noted. Night, Professor," Hermione replied, snuggling further into her sheets, a content sigh escaping her pretty pink lips.

Bellatrix frowned. She had half expected the girl to call her Bellatrix."Goodnight, pet," she whispered back softly, brushing a stray strand of bushy brown hair away from the lovely young face. _Perhaps you've had a little much to drink yourself, Bella. Time to go before you do something stupid… Stupider._

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling like she had been in a wrestling match with a troll. By the throbbing of her head and the scrapes and bruises covering her body, she'd reckon she lost the fight. Wincing at the light filtering through her partially open curtains, she slowly crawled out of bed and into her small, personal bathroom. She cleaned up as well as she could – she would definitely need a shower as soon as she had time today – and walked back into her room, face red and shining from a furious scrubbing and hair slightly damp from her attempt to tame her mane. Picking the comfiest pieces of school uniform from her wardrobe, she dressed with slow movements while doing her best not to throw up. _Serves me right for drinking so much, I guess. Why the hell would Professor Black try to get me drunk? _

Turning to grab her school bag and crawl her way down to breakfast, Hermione noticed a small potion bottle on her bedside table. It was a clear bottle filled with a dark blue liquid that smelled slightly worse than she did. Beneath the bottle, there was a small folded note.

_This dogwood root potion is my own creation. Sadly, I've had a few too many hangovers for my own lifetime. This helps. – Prof. B.B. _

Smiling, Hermione quickly upended the potion. It may have smelled ghastly, but the taste was bearable, it reminded her of the Muggle potion for sickness – Pepto Bismol.

Quickly enough, the nausea eased away and she was left with only a mild headache that she hoped would disappear once she ate something. Content, she made her way to breakfast. Once in the Great Hall, she nodded her thanks to her professor up at the high table, and the raven-haired woman tipped her mug of coffee slightly in acknowledgment.

* * *

"Pay attention now, kiddies, the next few lessons will be on a rather difficult subject. Recent knowledge has come to my attention and has prompted me to approach this, no matter the level of difficulty," Professor Black lectured as she paced back and forth at the front of the room. With a flick of her wrist, notes began to appear on the chalkboard and they all wrote them down dutifully.

"Yes, Granger?" She acknowledged the girl's hand suddenly lifting high in the air over her head.

"You're going to teach us Occlumency?" she asked with unease. _This is not going to be good. _She remembered stories of Harry's lessons with Snape. The last thing she needed was this professor _literally_ digging around in her thoughts and memories.

The professor turned her head to the board and pretended to read her notes. "Why… I believe I am, Granger! Would you look at that…" She rolled her eyes and continued her impatient pacing as several Slytherins sniggered around the room.

Frowning at the professor's sarcasm, Hermione lowered her head in confused embarrassment and continued to take notes. Beside her, Neville seemed completely at ease, unaware of the difference in tone that passed between the two witches.

"Occlumency is a form of mental protection against an invasion of the mind by use of Ligilimency. It creates certain barriers, if you will, inside the mind that makes it more difficult for the Ligilimens to see your thoughts and memories," the professor explained.

"Will you also be teaching us how to read minds?" Blaise asked.

"No, Zabini, I will not. Among students, I see mind reading as a gross invasion of privacy. If you wish to read minds, get Os in all your N.E. and apply for a position as a Ligilimens; you will not be learning it here. This is Defense_ Against_ the Dark Arts. Throughout the years, I have taught you all to protect your bodies, but I se now that I have neglected to teach you how to protect your minds, which may in fact be much more important – even immature, simple brains such as yours should not be read so easily."

Brows furrowed, Hermione continued to copy notes. _Why the hell is she being so snarky? _In truth, this was Professor Black usual behaviour in most situations. Compared to her recent behaviour, however, Hermione noticed the snide and condescending tone much more than before.

"Similarly to how we practiced defensive spells, I shall attempt to penetrate your minds by use of Ligilimency – again, a very weak form so as not to turn you all into drooling potatoes – and you will all try your damnedest to keep me out. _Please_, keep me out! There are a few of you who I really don't what to know what you think…"

"Can the mind-readers really read our thoughts as we have them? Would we know they're there?" Pansy asked. It seemed this lesson made more than just Hermione uncomfortable.

"The more skilled the Ligilimens, the more subtle the intrusion will be. Some will want to read your mind secretly, others will want you to know they're in there as an intimidation tactic," the professor responded. "As for reading your thoughts as you have them, it takes an expert Ligilimens to do that. Most simply flip back through your memories, seeing what you saw and tapping into your strongest emotions. More often than not, they have a goal in mind, something specific they are searching for and seldomly does this information lie at the forefront of a person's thoughts."

"How is it dangerous? Is it really that horrible for them to see what you lived through?" Justin inquired; hand raised like a good Hufflepuff.

"Imagine living through something horrible, something akin to torture full of raw emotion and strong memories. Now imagine someone digging through your head with a spade and bringing those difficult times back up for you to relive again and again, over and over. I would say that is horrible enough to warrant a manner of defense, wouldn't you all agree?"

Some students nodded, but most stayed silent. Hermione's eyes remained glued to her professor.

"How does one use Occlumency?" Lavender asked.

"Finally! A very pertinent question, Miss Brown."

Hermione's frown deepened and her annoyance grew. _'A very pertinent question, Miss Brown!' _The young witch glowered as she continued to transcribe the continual stream of notes appearing on the blackboard. It gave her an outlet to help diffuse her irritation. She pressed her quill so hard to the parchment, the tips occasionally tore through, gouging the lesson into her notebook.

"The form of Occlumency I ask of you is very basic. Simply clear your mind, make it blank and empty. Control your emotions and imagine a wall between you and the invader, if you must. More advanced forms would include shutting down all thoughts and emotions that pertain to certain memories. This is a more subtle form, for the Ligilimens will have a more difficult time realising that you are actually withholding information from them. However, this method takes months and sometimes years to master. Some are never able to accomplish it; it is a very rare skill."

_Bet you can do it, you arrogant snake… oh look at me, look at me, I'm so powerful! UHG! _

"Now, who would like to be the first to attempt keeping me out? Anyone? Come now, surely you children can't have secrets so dire they can't tell good ol' Auntie Bella!" She grinned predatorily at the uncomfortable students.

Hermione's anger evaporated and all colour drained from her face to the point where Neville wondered whether she would pass out. _Secrets…she wants my secrets… _Hermione's mind panicked.

"No one? Not even our dear little know-it-all, Miss Granger?" Professor Black taunted with a malicious smirk on her red lips.

_And the anger is back. _Hermione stared back at her professor, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Up here with me, Granger, you'll be the first."

If she refused, they would think she was weak – a coward. Black would think she was a coward. There was only one thing to do then. Slowly, Hermione rose from her seat and strode to the front of the class while the professor clapped mockingly.

"Now, Granger, you understand what you're supposed to do?"

"Yes," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"Very well, prepare yourself." Taking a few steps back, the dark witch raised her curved wand with a wicked grin. _Got you now, pet__! "Ligilimens!" _

Images suddenly flew past Hermione's mind's eye – her entire life seemed to pass before her. She saw her first meeting Harry and Ron on the train, working through the obstacles to reach the Sorcerer's Stone, adopting Crookshanks, reading Charles Dickens over the summer of her fourth year… so many memories flashed in front of her, blinding all other senses; she lost touch with reality.

And then suddenly her life vanished and she was left staring into the smirking face of Professor Black. "A very poor first attempt, Granger. I must say, I'm rather disappointed." Several of the students chuckled. It wasn't often that Hermione Granger failed at something. She felt rage build tears in the corners of her eyes and she rapidly blinked them away before Black could see. "Again. Focus on clearing your mind, controlling your emotions. I don't fancy seeing you snog anyone while I'm in there. _Ligilimens!" _

More memories assaulted the forefront of her mind. Crying in the bathroom because Ron had teased her, Draco calling her a Mudblood, the fight between Harry and Ron in fourth year, Mrs. Weasley shunning her because the woman thought she was using Harry for fame… everything came back and she fought to keep all the negative emotions at bay, she fought to push the witch out. This time, she had almost succeeded, but before she managed, Black pulled back.

"Last chance, Granger, I'm going for the good stuff this time. _Ligilimens!" _

These memories were more recent than the last. Dumbledore's funeral, her vacation to London the previous summer with her parents, packing her room –

_No, not there, not there, get out out out out… _

For a second, she managed to force the professor away from that memory and onto a new one. Arriving at The Burrow after the battle in the sky, crying in her room because she missed her parents, eating apples in the orchard with her friends before Draco –

_NO stop! _

Unsure if she saw the vision of Draco appearing suddenly in the orchard at The Burrow, Hermione pushed through to another memory – the professor was relentless.

_She's looking for something specific… I have to force her out!_

Bill and Fleur's wedding… dueling the dark, evil witch with Ginny… black curls… black eyes…

Hermione felt herself begin to panic. With all her strength, she forced through to the night she and her friends tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor and then to her memories of the previous night, her detention with the professor herself. Hermione found that forcing specific memories into her thoughts was easier than subtracting them, and so she remembered the fun she had. Gathering the potion ingredients, the frogs, the Luna Lilies_, _the drinks in the Three Broomsticks, the professor helping her into her own bloody bed! Still, the professor refused to retreat. Then the memories of minutes ago popped back into her head. How cold Professor Black was treating her today after how close they had been last night, how she had praised Lavender. _Lavender! Of all people, the witch who tries to undermine me and is jealous of something I don't even have with Ron and how Black called on me just to find out what I was hiding from her last night. _

Anger boiled inside of Hermione, a fire ignited and she struggled to control it. _Why bother controlling it… she wants your memories, show them to her! _

And so Hermione unleashed her fury at her professor. Pushing with all the power and energy left in her mind, she pushed the hurt and embarrassment Black had put her through today back at the witch. Her emotions were so strong, so hot, it took her a moment to realize there was an emotion she was feeling there that wasn't hers; regret.

In her blind haze of rage, Hermione had pushed from her own mind and around the professor's spell and into the surface of the current consciousness of Bellatrix Black. She saw the professor looking at her through the witch's own black eyes.

Hermione saw the sweat gathering on her own face, the fury in her eyes and the stern determination, and then the shock as she realised she was inside her professor's mind. The second the realisation hit both her mind and flashed over her face, Hermione found herself back in her own mind and body. Somehow, she had fallen to the cold, stone floor. Looking up, she saw Black leaning against her desk, hands gripping the edge for support, knuckles white with the effort of keeping herself up.

_Shiiiiiitttttt…. _

"That's enough for today." Hermione watched the ruby red lips move but felt they were slightly out of sync with her words. "Dismissed."

The stunned class shook themselves, each as confused as the next as to what had just transpired between the professor and student. Slowly, they began to trickle out of the class.

"You alright, Hermione? That looked intense," Neville said as he bent over to help Hermione to her feet.

"You don't know the half of it," she muttered, trying to steady herself on shaky legs.

"Granger," a low voice called her back.

"Yes, Professor?" she answered wearily. She was not in the mood for a screaming match at the moment.

"Detention, tonight, here, eight o'clock." With that, Professor Black stormed up the stone staircase and slammed her office door shut so hard, one of the portraits from the wall fell to the ground and shattered the frame.

"Whoa. She's livid. What happened?"

"You don't need to know."


	18. Chapter 18

For the second time in as many nights, Hermione walked down the barely lit corridors to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. This night, the shadows made her less anxious and the lamp outside the classroom seemed less inviting. It did nothing to soothe the feelings of dread and frustration swirling inside her.

She was furious with her professor for treating her with such unwarranted contempt and mockery; for the drastic change from the almost amicable and tender treatment of the night before.

Hermione had thought that last night they had come to some sort of understanding, a level of respect, a tentative friendship they could perhaps revisit once they were equals and she was graduated. _I was so wrong. _

Perhaps even more so – though she was loath to admit it – she was angry with herself for snapping the way she did, no matter how aggravating the woman was. Hermione knew better. She rose to the witch's bait; she sprung the trap on herself.

She knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again. Nothing. _Stubborn witch… _She pushed the heavy wooden door open. The classroom was deserted and dark. Outside, the heavy cloud cover blocked any natural light from shining through the window to illuminate the odd shapes hidden in the corners of the eerie classroom. Hermione's eyes caught a thin strip of light seeping through the crack beneath the door to the professor's office at the top of the stairs. Shutting the large door with a firm _click _behind her, Hermione marched across the room and climbed the stairs with her shoulders tight with tension. Her anger was like a snake that kept her trapped in its coils, squeezing tightly as a constant reminder of its presence.

She knocked once again. Slowly, the office door creaked open and Hermione squinted at the firelight emanating from the comfortable room. Seated behind her desk, Professor Black corrected scrolls of parchment with an elegant, long feathered quill.

"Granger," the professor greeted, momentarily looking up from her work to meet her student's eyes.

"Professor."

"Take a seat." Black waved the tip of her quill to the chair across from her.

Hermione took the offered seat. Seated across from the woman, Hermione had a quick flashback to the view she had while seated across this same witch in the pub. _Not now! _She violently shook away the memory. They sat in uncomfortable silence, nothing like the small lapses of quiet they had the night of her detention. Unlike last night, this silence was deafening and spoke of many wrongs done and the regret that ensued. After a few minutes of this torture, Hermione swallowed her pride. She knew Black would never be the first to crack.

"Professor, I just want to apologise for losing my temper today. I should not have – "

"Stop," the older witch interrupted, lifting a hand. Taking a pause from her work, her eyes settled on a small picture frame on her desk. "I'm glad you did. I realise my actions were… unfair during class."

"Oh… uhh." It was not an apology, but an admission of fault was still more than the brunette had expected. "In a weird way, you succeeded the task," she continued, "I was looking for something specific in that brain of yours and you hid it from me at every turn."

Surprised by the almost compliment, Hermione sat in silent wonderment.

"It was a shock to see my nephew at The Burrow, though. Now, I am led to assume that young Draco has left the Death Eaters and is now working with you three to help defeat The Dark Lord. Correct?"

Looking away, Hermione said nothing.

"Hermione, just tell me!" Black demanded impatiently. There was a pleading tone to her voice Hermione had never heard before. Black was not accustomed to not being privy to secrets. Especially not ones that involved her family. "If it's true, it means I should have more respect for the boy that is part of my bloodline."

"Yes, he's helping," Hermione admitted in a quiet, acquiescent voice. _She already knows that part, there's no point in lying anymore. _"His mother is also supposedly on our side as well."

Taking a sharp breath, the professor struggled to conceal her sudden wave of emotions. Shock, rage, sadness, and hope all passed through her expressive dark eyes in the blink of an eye. "So, Lady Malfoy has betrayed her husband to save her son," she said in a strained voice. "How noble." Reaching into a drawer beneath her desk, she pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass. Pouring a generous amount of amber coloured alcohol into the crystal, she took a sip.

"She's your sister…" Hermione said. Though it was not asked as a question, Black knew what she meant to ask. The woman took another sip.

"Yes, the youngest. Baby Cissy… we haven't spoken in ages." The professor's eyes looked through the young witch and far away, lost in the past.

Hermione sat patiently, waiting for the professor to collect her thoughts and process them. It did not take long.

"Hermione." The young witch warmed at hearing the professor use her first name so softly. "Will you please tell me what you three are planning? I know McGonagall has offered you help, hell – the entire Order would be at your beck and call if one of you asked! I'm on your side, too. I want – I need – to know so I can help keep you and the other students stay safe."

The speech moved her, but Hermione feared the power it would give the professor if Hermione confessed everything. She and her friends seldom had the luxury of trusting others – especially adults. For that reason, Hermione resigned herself to her secrecy. She didn't want to tell anyone – she couldn't! Not even her friends here knew everything. Only Harry and Ron. There was more than just her life on the line. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I am part of the Order – "

"So was Pettigrew."

"I was an Auror; I helped put Death Eaters in Azkaban after the first war – "

"Circumstantial. Many people turned their '_alliance' _to the Ministry once You-Know-Who disappeared."

Bellatrix grunted out an exasperated sigh. She took a deep drink of the whiskey, watching the liquid swirl around in her glass. "There are so many people who have lost loved ones to him and his Death Eaters. The Dark Lord ruined my family and I vowed I would never fall into the darkness that possessed him and –" she ceased speaking abruptly. The professor's eyes, while she spoke, had gone dark with the pain of memories. Clearing the thickness from her voice, she took a deep breath and continued. "I swear I hate him – all of them – more than you could possibly imagine."

Hermione felt chills creep down her spine. Of course, everyone had been touched by the brutality of the first Wizarding War, but for the first time, Hermione saw the true pain that often hid behind her professor's sarcastic comments and her dark eyes so full of mischief. Now, in those eyes, Hermione would swear she could see the telltale signs of tears glistening in the corners and truth shining in their depths. She had no idea what Voldemort had done to this woman or to her family, but in her life, Hermione had always trusted logic. This time, she was going to trust instinct.

"Alright, I'll allow you to help," she conceded with a small smile. "But I can't tell you everything – not yet."

"All in good time," the professor responded, her usual prideful look returning to cast away her vulnerability. "How about I make an offer, hmm?"

Curious and intrigued, Hermione nodded.

"Snape is a master Ligilimens, one of the best outside those in the actual field of Ligilimency in the Ministry and the Dark Lord himself. I will teach you advanced Occlumency and Ligilimency to protect your mind from him and the Carrows. Sound good?"

Hermione considered the proposal. She remembered how much the woman had witnessed from her personal memories in just one lesson; how much more would she see if she agreed to these lessons? But still, it would help. The information would be safe inside two very strong and well-fortified minds if all was successful. "Deal."

Her professor smiled. "We'll start on Friday; I'll pass you a time later on in the week. We will practice in here – I will set up a few wards, no one will know."

"Okay." The room descended into silence once more. With the air cleared, and a few secrets revealed, Hermione felt lighter. She had help. Her eyes wandered around the room, content to sit in silence for a few minutes with her new mentor. Brown eyes fell on the little picture frame on the professor's desk. _I know that hair… _

"You have a picture of Dora on your desk."

"Yes, she's my niece. We're rather close."

"Her mother…"

"My sister was incapable of caring for her child at the time of Dora's birth, so I did. I left the Auror Office, took this position, and raised her with the help of a house-elf, Sipsey. At one time, Dora believed that Sipsey and I were her two mothers," the woman told her as she fondly watched as the young girl in the little portrait changed the colour of her hair from pink, to purple, and a deep iridescent black.

Hermione smiled broadly. The Dora she knew would be mortified if she knew that Hermione was hearing such a story from her guardian.

"Have you heard from her lately? Are she and Remus well? Other than Professor McGonagall, I haven't been in contact with the Order."

Turning back to her scrolls, the witch relayed the recent news. "She's well, they both are. They're expecting a child, I'm not sure if you've heard. She's five months along now."

"Pregnant? That's wonderful! But… uh…"

"Wonderful news, just horrible timing."

"Yes, exactly."

"She promised me she would stay away from the front lines at least until the baby is born. Hopefully being a mother will instill more caution in her. But she is such a _stubborn witch!" _

Laughing along with her student, Bellatrix found it odd how easy it was to talk to the young witch. They both had their secrets that weighed down heavily on them, but yet the little witch still had the strength and the heart to laugh and smile. Even without the aid of whiskey! Bellatrix found it rather refreshing.

The two talked late into the night – Hermione's detention once again turning into something pleasant. When it became apparent that the young witch did not wish to leave, Bellatrix handed over a large stack of second year essays on trolls for her to correct. Once the clock struck twelve, Bella forcefully dragged the young woman from her office and escorted her to Gryffindor Tower. Luckily, Snape and the Carrows were absent that night, so there was no real reason to have to protect the witch, but it conveniently offered them more time to continue their conversation.

"Professor," Hermione began suddenly, "Lady Malfoy married a Death Eater, and Dora's mother –"

"We're here," the professor interrupted as they climbed the last step to the landing with the Fat Lady's portrait. Bellatrix cast a glace back to the witch and nearly laughed at her disappointed face. "Don't pout, pet, it's unattractive," she said pinching the girl's cheek. _That's a lie, _an annoying little voice whispered in her head, _it's completely adorable. _Shaking her head, she led the girl with a hand on her back. "You have your secrets, and I have mine. Maybe you'll find out another night."

"Fair enough," Hermione agreed. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Sleep tight, pet."

* * *

"Ummm… hi. Welcome back to most of you. To our new members, this is Dumbledore's Army." A small applause sounded throughout the crowd of students gathered in the Room of Requirement. Everyone was around Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. As one of the original founders, Hermione had been unanimously appointed leader of this – Dumbledore's Army Reborn or Dumbledore's Army 2.0 – they were still working out a new name for themselves. "Here, we are going to teach you more about how to defend yourselves. Think of this as a Defense Against the Dark Arts advanced study group. We'll start with the basics tonight. Most of you should already know these spells, but for the benefit of the newcomers, we're starting with a bit of revision." As she spoke, she tried to remember how Harry did it. _Teaching is horrible! Do they have to keep staring at me? _

She divided the group into pairs, veteran members each practicing with a new member to speed along the learning process. Walking throughout the room, Hermione made small corrections and adjustments to some students Shield Charms as she went. Flashes of red, blue, and yellow ties filled her vision as she watched everyone improve at an exceptional rate.

Everyone here was actively standing up the Death Eaters, she reminded them. They were all doing their part in this war by learning how to protect themselves, each other, and their beloved school.

"This is great, Hermione. I finally feel like I'm doing something useful again!" Neville said in her ear as the last of the students left the room just before curfew.

"Brilliant, girl! Harry would be proud of your teaching skills," Ginny teased playfully.

"This is so much fun! Colin lifted me off the ground with _Livicorpus; _I was flying!" Luna gushed happily as she skipped away to her common room on Cho's heels.

Hermione had to admit, as she snuck back to the Gryffindor common room with Ginny and Neville, she missed the DA meetings. She missed the rush that came with sneaking through the castle; she missed the satisfaction when more students successfully cast a new spell; she missed practicing more magic that she would never have learned without Harry's experience and expertise. And now it was her turn to step into his shoes. The leader, the teacher, the one that would guide the students of Hogwarts forward and prepare them for when the war would land on their doorstep – a fact on which Hermione had no doubts.

She fell asleep that night dreaming of spells and charms; the large mirrors in the Room of Requirement reflecting the light back tenfold, bathing everyone in a magical blue light. All of a sudden, the dream took a turn. The mirrors shook and the walls creaked and moaned. In her dreamscape, she made her way to one end of the room and watched in silent horror as a section of the wall crumbled away to reveal the corridor beyond, and the dark figures awaiting them.

"_Do come out, children,"_ an eerily calm voiced whispered through her dream.

In her sleep, Hermione tossed and turned.

"_It's not fair if you stay hidden; that's not how you play the game!" _Horrible guffaws echoed around this singular voice. All around Dumbledore's Army, the walls began to crumble, falling to pieces like a trampled sandcastle.

Hermione awoke drenched in sweat just as a flash of brilliantly green light reflected off of each of the mirrors, surrounding her vision, eclipsing everything but colour and the curvaceous silhouette with a mass of dark curls.


	19. Chapter 19

The weeks passed by painfully slow. The school became more and more aware of their Headmaster's frequent absence and, as little as they liked him, he was missed. The more often Snape was missing, the more liberties the Carrows took in their classes and in their disciplinary methods. It was common practice now to suffer the Cruciatus Curse in a detention set by one of the Carrows.

Madam Pomfrey, as a result, had taken on several of the seventh and sixth years to help her tend to all the fractures, broken bones, concussions, and any other trauma suffered by the students at the hands of the two Death Eaters. Her Hospital Wing was in constant turmoil and overflowing with young injured bodies. One student in particular, Lavender, had taken on the responsibility magnificently. It seemed that the young witch had finally found her calling; she now planned to apply to St. Mungo's to be a Mediwitch once she graduated.

An unspoken pact had thus been struck up between all students of every house. There were always a few who refused to change their ways, but as the Sorting Hat had predicted, four houses needed to become one, otherwise the school would fall and crumble to ruin. Perhaps if they'd heeded the warnings of the old hat, they would be more prepared for what lay ahead. Most vividly, she recalled part of the song from their fifth year at Hogwarts:

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within._

_I have told you, I have warned you… _

Perhaps it was right. The division between Houses; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin accentuated their differences rather than teach them that they are all part of the same magical community. Their enemies were clear now, but they were no longer external. Like rats scrurrying and sneaking through any cracks in through the foundation, their enemies had infested their home.

Now, the Houses were linked together by a common enemy and a common goal. There were always some who refused to change their ways and chose to believe the bigotry of the Ministry and hold to their prejudice, but members of all four Houses were finally learning to work together. Lavender had ceased teasing Hermione, of all things! The young witch respected the Golden Girl's courage and ability to lead them in their preparation for their part in the Wizarding War. No one else could do it, Lavender even admitted one night. _If our rivalry can end, why not the rivalry with the Slytherins?_ Hermione wondered optimistically.

As Christmas neared, Hermione tried to remain cheerful. The professors decorated the Great Hall, classrooms, and corridors; the ghosts sang their carols; Peeves played his nasty Yuletide pranks…all in all, this year could have been mistaken for any other of her Christmases at Hogwarts. That is, if it had not been for the gloom which hung in the air like a toxic smog. Every other student in the corridor sported a new battle wound from the bloodthirsty siblings.

Hermione slept less, ate less, spoke less in class. Madam Pomfrey had prescribed stronger sleeping draughts – even Mrs. Weasley's magical blanket could offer little comfort anymore. Her professors offered her extensions on homework and Ginny even wore her least favorite jumper from her mother because she knew it made Hermione laugh. But it just wasn't the same without Harry or Ron. Nothing lifted her spirits but her Occlumency lessons with Professor Black.

During their lessons, Hermione felt powerful, proactive; much like she did while teaching the DA.

"Come _on, _Granger, you can do better than that!"

_Okay, well, for the most part anyways. _Shaking herself and closing her eyes in concentration, Hermione began building the mental wall she had been practicing throughout the past several weeks. During their past sessions, Professor Black had been focusing on Hermione's ability to sense an intrusion. Today, the Gryffindor was finally learning how to push out an intruder. Once they had mastered that, Hermione would be moving onto a full mind-block, where her defenses would become strong enough to disallow any intrusion. Her mind would be impenetrable to any who attempted her enter her thoughts and they would be met with a shield thick as brick.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said, palms slightly sweaty.

"_Ligilimens."_

**Hermione was back at the Yule Ball during her fourth year. She and Viktor had just left the dance floor and she was waiting for him to meet her in the entrance hall with drinks. Alone, she sat on one of the bottom steps waiting when the sudden sound of heels on stone made her turn. Above her was Professor Black, dressed elegantly in black and emerald green satin from head to toe, descending the stairs speaking quietly with Snape. **_How very Slytherin, _Hermione chuckled as the memory played out in her head. She had forgotten about this memory. The professors did not notice Hermione until Viktor came up to her and handed her a glass of punch.

"**Watch out, Granger, Quidditch players like to ride fast," Professor Black smirked as she and Snape passed them on the stairs. **

Present and past Hermione blushed at the comment, but the memory continued. _I'm supposed to be pushing her out, _Hermione reminded herself. Tensing her shoulders, the young witch gave a mental shove. In her head, she was sure she heard the sound of her professor chuckling. _Was that in my head or did she really? Is it present or memory? This is far too confusing. _

"_Concentrate, Granger. You need more than a little shove to keep me from finishing this memory."_

She tried again. Backing it with more force, she shoved the feeling of the professor filtering through her mind. Encouraged by the little hiccup in the memory – like an old film reel skipping a frame – and Hermione tried again.

**Now she was kissing Viktor – her first kiss. It all seemed magical; the background music from the Great Hall covered the sound of people's talking, the Christmas lights made the scene glow warmly and Hermione could not have asked for anything more romantic or perfect. But then it shattered. **

"**What the hell are you doing?" **

**She and Viktor jumped apart at the sudden enraged shout from the entrance to the Great Hall. "Ron?" **_**What's he doing out here? Why does he look so… angry? **_

"**What is the problem? Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor looked confusedly between the two friends. But she was just as confused as him, and still a little dizzy from the kiss. **

"'**Mione, he's against Harry! What're you doing with him?" Ron shouted, his face turning redder than his hair. **

"**Ron, we're just – " **

"**Yeah, I know what you were **_**just!" **_

"**Perhaps I should go, for now. Come find me later." Hermione nodded as Viktor stood from the stone staircase and strode back to the party with Ron glaring daggers at his back. Hermione stood as well, ready to face Ron. **

"**What's the matter with you?" Hermione demanded, confused and more than a little angry and embarrassed. **

"_I think little Weasel likes you…" _a dark voice whispered through her mind.

_Right, time to leave this one. _Again, Hermione pushed and pushed, pulling all of her strength forward and imagining her own hands pushing her professor's mental tendrils from around her. The woman's grasp did not slacken.

Suddenly, the memory shifted. Colours swirled and Hermione felt disoriented, as if she had just been plucked up and dropped into a new world. But she knew this world all too well.

**Hermione looked around her tidy room. Everything was either away or packed in her little beaded bag – the one that sat on her pristinely made bed. **

"**Hermione, darling, tea is ready!"**

"**Coming, mum!" she heard the crack in her voice. **

_No, no, not this one, stay out of this one, _Hermione panicked as she watched her past-self cast the glamour over her door.

**Downstairs, Hermione could hear her parents discussing the trip to Australia… She crept quietly down the stairs, passing pictures… pictures of her as a baby, at two years old and dressed for Halloween – as a ladybug, she had always found them cute little insects – there were pictures of her and her parents on their trip to London, of her parents' wedding, her first-grade school play… **

**She hastily wiped away a traitorous tear from her cheek and pulled out her wand. With a shaky hand, she raised the tip level to the back of her parents' heads. **

Hermione's heart ached as she watched. Completely, horribly entranced by the vision of herself, Hermione forgot that she was not the only one watching in stunned silence.

"_**Obliviate.**_**" The tip of her wand began to glow as the magic blossomed**. **Her parents' conversation came to a halt… Hermione felt an overwhelming wave of sadness crash over her as tears leaked from her eyes and she hastily wiped them away. **

Hermione felt tears tumble over her lashes and down her cheeks as sorrow latched onto her heart. Loneliness conquered and the tears fell more rapidly… plummeting… cascading over her cheeks and down her trembling chin. _I did this for them, so they would be safe… so no one could use them to get to me, so they wouldn't be hurt if anything happened to me. _Filled with the love she had for her parents and the courage she felt when she had made the fateful decision, Hermione pushed once more. Love made her strong; she felt her professor's grip loosen on her mind and she continued pushing. Finally, with one last strenuous shove, Hermione managed to break the professor's hold and she was once again alone in her own mind.

She opened her eyes.

Once again back in her own mind, Bellatrix stood transfixed as she watched Hermione struggle with the memory. The young witch had tear tracks down her face and she shook from the mute sobs that wracked through her body.

Hermione opened her eyes. In their depths, Bellatrix recognized the pain and loneliness that came with losing one's family. It was a look she recognized from gazing at her reflection. Despite herself, Bella felt tears begin to prickle in the corners of her black eyes.

Hermione looked up at her professor. No longer able to hold herself up for the pain, Hermione let her body sink to the ground as she let crumble the dam that had been holding back these crashing waves of feelings for months. She wept and sobbed. She hid her face in her hands as a flood of tears raced down her face, soaked her shirt and fell to the floor. _Mum, Dad! _Her mind screamed in despair. _I want to go home, I want them to hold me, I don't want to do all this; I can't do this! _

Sobbing uncontrollably and curled in a shaking ball, Hermione didn't feel the strong arms pull her off the ground and into a soft, warm lap as those same arms held her close. Hands ran comfortingly through her hair and rubbed soothing circles on her back while the warm body she was pressed against rocked her gently as though she were once again a small child. A voice was shushing her softly until her crying finally subsided and lessened into small hiccups and leaky eyes.

"Hush, hush; it's okay, love, it'll be okay. Calm down, pet, I've got you. It's all going to be okay," a low, gentle voice whispered in her ear.

Lifting her head, Hermione's wet, brown eyes met kind, sympathetic black orbs. _How could I have ever seen them as similar to _hers_? _Hermione wondered as she stared into the face of her professor.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, little witch." Hermione watched full, red lips form the words as a hand brushed away damp hair from her cheeks. "I know it hurts, but you are so much stronger than you think you are. And you're not alone." Those same lips then pressed the softest of kisses to her forehead and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed. _What would they feel like… no, no. _

"Come on, I think we're done here for today," the professor said, lifting the girl to her feet. From inside her robes, she pulled out an emerald green handkerchief and passed it to Hermione, who accepted it gratefully with a small smile and wiped at her face.

Hermione followed the woman from the classroom and through the halls. Outside, silvery-white snow sparkled in the partial night light from the stars and moon. It was rare that light broke the cloud cover, but it always made Hermione glad when it did. They silently walked through the castle, until Hermione looked up and did not recognize where they were.

"Professor, where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse, as she looked around at the unfamiliar portraits and statues.

"The Professors' Wing," the older witch answered. She stopped in front of a dark oak door and fit a key in the handle and pushed the door open. "You're far too upset to be left alone for the night. I thought it would do you some good to sit comfortably and have a nice chat before sending you to bed." With a hand on the young woman's back, Bellatrix led the girl into her sitting room and closed the door behind them. Guiding her to the leather loveseat, she gave her a small shove and Hermione sat down, her brown eyes wide as a curious kitten's.

Flicking her wand at the hearth, a roaring fire burst to life, illuminating the sitting room in a warm golden glow. Bellatrix stepped over to her liquor cabinet and pulled out two crystal glasses and a bottle of wine. Setting them on a small table, she chuckled as the young witch sputtered at the suggestion.

"Relax, pet, I'm not trying to get you drunk. I enjoy having a glass or two of wine and I thought it would be nice to share a bottle. If you really don't want one, I can get you something else."

Eyes shifting between her professor and the offered glass, Hermione's shaky hand made the decision for her. She accepted the glass with a nod and took a large gulp. "This one's nicer than the ones we had at the Three Broomsticks," she commented.

"It should be, cost me a small fortune."

"But then are you sure –"

"Yes, Hermione, just drink the bloody wine!" Bellatrix sighed taking a sip from her own glass.

"I suppose you brought me here so you could ask me what that memory was about," Hermione said low and despondently, her eyes on the dark liquid swirling in the crystal glass.

Bellatrix took a breath. She could not deny that she did have questions, but unlike the night at the pub, she had no intention of tricking or forcing the young woman into divulging her secrets. She knew this was far too difficult a subject to force into the open. "Only if you want to."

Hermione took another sip, a pensive expression settling on her face. "I knew they were in danger. I'm one of Harry Potter's best friends – part of the silly Golden Trio. An easy way for the Death Eaters to get to Harry would be to go through Ron's family or mine. The Weasleys are all wizards and part of the Order; they know to be vigilant and are able to protect themselves. My parents are Muggles. If a wizard wished them harm… there would be nothing they could do."

"So, you did the one thing you could think of to protect them in case they – or you – were being hunted."

"Or in case something happens to me."

Bellatrix offered a sad smile, but another feeling wriggled at the back of her mind. "Smart little witch. Does anyone know? Have you told anyone?"

"Harry and Ron know. No one else."

Her face dropped. "You should have told me."

Hermione's eyes flicked back to the professor's. Was it a trick of the light? Were the flames playing games over the older woman's features? Hermione could not tell what expression the porcelain face held. Anger? Empathy? Jealousy, maybe? Whatever it was, it sent shivers down her spine. "Why?"

"I could have helped you!" the woman yelled as she stood bolt upright from her chair, knocking her wineglass over. Both women ignored the shattered glass and the blood red wine that soaked into the carpet. "More than those other two idiots…" she muttered as she turned away from the girl and passed a hand through her curls.

"How? How could you have helped me? What could you do? They're _my_ parents; I needed to protect them!"

"We could have thought of something else! I have property – hidden property – they could have stayed there and no one would be any wiser!"

"Professor –"

"NO, Hermione! You shouldn't have had to do this! We could have found another way. It isn't fair, you shouldn't have to lose your family, you're too young and –"

"Harry's made sacrifices and now it's my turn. I chose to protect the people I care about, even if it hurts me."

With a sigh, Bellatrix fell back into her chair. With the toe of her heeled boot, she nudged the broken glass. _I'll get to it later. _

"Thank you."

"What?" Dark eyes rose up to the young woman's face. More tears glistened in the firelight and Bellatrix swallowed. _She looks so much older than a seventh year… _

_You grew up quickly, too, after what happened. _

_It's not the same… it was smart of her to make that decision; brave of her to do what was necessary. In the end, it saves her from more pain. _

_Your pain. _

"It… it means a lot, that you want to help me; that you care."

Bellatrix smiled bitterly. "Think nothing of it, pet." _Where did my little bushy-haired know-it-all go? When did a woman take her place? _

Hermione's eyes returned to watch the flames, but Bellatrix's gaze remained fixed on the young woman. Her eyes traced curved cheekbones and a strong jawline. With time, the bushiness of her hair had been tamed slightly, and curled around the young woman's shoulders and slim neck. But it was Hermione's eyes that caught most of her attention. Wisdom beyond her years shone deep inside, and so much kindness swam through the brown irises. Through all the danger her friendship with Potter had put her through, the girl never failed to be incredibly kind-hearted; S.P.E.W being just one of her heart's ventures.

Before she knew it, the young woman had drifted off to sleep and as Bellatrix watched, she couldn't bring herself to disturb the peace the young woman had finally found tonight. Lifting the girl's feet onto the sofa and gently laying her head down on a throw pillow, Bellatrix made sure the girl was comfortable before covering her with a blanket.

She drifted to the window. The frozen lake shone beautifully in the moonlight and the snow sparkled as if the stars had fallen to the earth and gathered in the snowdrifts that covered the grounds. _Cold and beautiful… _pulling the curtains shut, the room fell into darkness; the dying embers of the fire the only light to guide her. Walking around the couch, Bellatrix gazed at the sleeping witch for one more moment. She gently brushed a strand of hair away from the youthful face. Her fingers grazed over a cheek. _So soft. _Unable to resist, Bellatrix placed a soft peck to Hermione's temple. "Sleep well, my little witch. I'll see you in the morning."


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione awoke in a fit of panic. _Where the hell am I? _Her mind screamed. The leather couch she was currently sprawled on definitely wasn't her bed; the blanket covering her didn't smell like vanilla. Furrowing her eyebrows, she inhaled. Pine needles, spice, and a strange, unique perfume that could only belong to one woman. _Professor Black? _

As if her mind had conjured the woman, a door on the far side of the room opened and her professor emerged wrapped only in a towel, steam from the bathroom pooling around her feet. Hermione felt her mouth go dry and her heart begin to beat faster. _Oh my goodness, she's beautiful… _her eyes followed a single drop of water as it ran from the side of the woman's face, down her elegant neck, over a pronounced clavicle and then rode over a mound of cleavage and disappeared beneath the fuzzy towel. A blush crept up over the young witch's face and neck.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Bellatrix said as she walked across the sitting room towards an open door Hermione assumed was her bedroom. "I'm afraid you missed breakfast in the hall, but if you wait a minute I'll fix you something here before you head back."

With her tongue turned to lead, Hermione simply nodded. Her professor smiled and Hermione's heart beat faster. "Brilliant, back in a minute." She vanished into her room and the door shut behind her. Sitting up, Hermione looked around, collecting her memories of last night. _She knows about my parents, she brought me here to cheer me up, she offered to help – she really wanted to help. _A small smile spread over her lips and the blush over her cheeks intensified. _She held me while I cried… _ And then she froze. _My hair probably looks a mess! _

Jumping to her feet, she ran across the sitting room to the bathroom and peered in the misty mirror. _Yep, a total mess, _she grimaced at her hazy reflection. Wetting her hands, she ran her fingers through the messy mane, attempting to tame the bushiness into less horrible curls. Then she splashed some water over her face to wash away the leftover grogginess. _Too bad I don't have a toothbrush, _she thought.

She stepped back into the sitting room and spied a small bowl of Honeydukes candies on a side-table. _That'll work. _Quickly popping a Peppermint Imp into her mouth, she hoped the candied smoke finished before her professor returned. While she waiting, Hermione finally took the time to examine the professor's living quarters. Black leather furniture with green throw pillows, a dark wooden work table by the window, bookshelves packed with numerous heavy volumes. _I guess Fred and George were wrong about her having chains and shackles in her private chambers; _she smirked and walked over to take a closer inspection of the impressive home-library.

_Mysteries of Mermaids Revealed, A History of Hogwarts's Forest Inhabitants, Dragons: Kings of all Magical Creatures…_ Hermione's eyes skipped to another shelf. _Azkaban's Dirtiest Dwellers: A Criminal History_. Beside this well-worn tome, Hermione read the next title, _Rules and Regulations for Ministry Aurors_. She ran her finger down the spine. _I don't think this one has ever been opened_… chuckling to herself, her eyes continued on their journey to discover more and more about her professor. On one of the higher shelves, Hermione was surprised to see a few Muggle classics mixed in among the magical literature. The copies of _Alice in Wonderland_, _The Hobbit_ and _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, _Dracula, The Wizard of Oz, Iliad_ and the _Odyssey, _Dante's_ Inferno, _and manyJules Vern all looked like they had been read and reread several times over. _What's this? _Picking a small leather-bound book off a top shelf, Hermione eyed the handwritten title on the first page. _Black's Guide to Catching the Bad Guys. _With wide eyes, her mouth fell open as a laugh fell from her lips.

"Like that, do you?"

Whipping around, Hermione nearly dropped the book in surprise. A light blush crept over her face at being caught snooping. Her professor stood nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe of her room. Her raven hair fell in damp ringlets around her face and down her back. She was dressed in her usual black dress and corset, but instead of heels, her feet were bare. "It's uhh…"

Smirking, Bellatrix walked over to the girl and plucked the book from her hands. "I wrote this while I was an Auror as a joke. Moody thought it was bloody brilliant, but the top boss at the time was less than impressed." She placed the homemade book back in its place on the shelf. "Barty Crouch Sr. always had a real stick up his arse, that one."

Hermione enjoyed listening to the woman talk about her past. They all knew the tales of famous Bellatrix Black, the most feared and respected Auror, besides Moody – the brightest witch of her age. Hermione wished they could spend more time just the two of them like they had the night at the Three Broomsticks where they could just talk and let the titles of 'Professor' and 'student' fall away.

"Not exactly Ministry regulated, is it?"

"You could say that," the woman chuckled.

"So, you promised me food," Hermione reminded the woman eagerly, excited to spend more time with her intriguing professor.

"That I did, pet. What do you like?" her professor asked as she made her way over to the small kitchen by the bathroom.

"Most anything," Hermione replied, following her through her little flat-like rooms and standing on the threshold.

"Ever so helpful," the witch muttered and she peered into a few cupboards. Shaking her head, she stepped back and snapped her fingers. Immediately, a house-elf appeared in the middle of the kitchen, ready to respond to the summons.

"How may Sipsey be of service to Mistress Bellatrix?" the little creature asked in its high-pitched voice, large blue eyes eager to please.

"Can you tell me what was served for breakfast this morning, Sipsey?" Bellatrix asked kindly to the little elf.

"Porridge, toast, and juice, Mistress," she answered.

The professor made a disgusted face. "I'd like breakfast for two, please, Sipsey. Something that's _actually _edible, if you could."

While her professor spoke to the elf, Hermione observed the interaction. It was clear the house-elf adored the professor by the way she listened diligently to every word and watched her with wide, excited eyes. It reminded her of how Dobby acted around Harry when the boy asked for something. She also watched her professor. For a Pure-blood, she treated the creature with a great amount of respect.

"Of course, Mistress Bellatrix, Sipsey will bring Mistress's favourite." With that, the little house-elf disappeared with a _pop. _

"She called you Bellatrix," Hermione commented, following the professor once more into the sitting room.

"Yes, that was my house-elf Sipsey. She helped me raise Dora. It took a while to get even that far. First, she insisted on calling me _Professor, _then _Mistress Black. _I wanted something less formal, especially since Dora called me Aunt Bella."

_Bella. _Hermione smiled. _That name suits her. _

"Did you sleep well enough?" her professor inquired as she fell into her armchair, legs hanging over one of the armrests. Suppressing yet another smile at the professor's comfortable attitude, Hermione sat back down on what had been her bed for the night.

"Yes, surprisingly. I'm so sorry for falling asleep on your sofa. You could have asked me to leave…"

Waving a hand, the professor dismissed the thought. "It was late; I was tired. I didn't feel like walking you back so I left you there."

_And made sure I was comfortable, _Hermione thought to herself, her hand subconsciously passing over the blanket.

The witches sat and chatted amicably about this and that until Sipsey returned with their breakfast. Placing the tray on the table by the window, the house-elf made them promise to call her if there was anything amiss before disappearing with another _pop. _

Seating herself that the small table with her professor, Hermione smiled at the breakfast spread out before them. Scrambled eggs, bacon, tomato slices, toast, chopped fruit, and a large glass of milk for each.

"She's always trying to get me to drink more milk and less whiskey," the woman grumbled, spearing half a strawberry with her fork.

"It's obvious she cares for you," Hermione said, taking a bite of her eggs.

Bellatrix scoffed. "She may care for me, but she simply _adores _Dora. I swear, the elf thinks the child is hers. Whenever Dora visits, Sipsey makes her amazing chocolate rum cake and eggs benedict for breakfast… spoils the girl rotten! I'm surprised she didn't make Lupin move in here just for the food."

They continued the conversation throughout their morning meal until they fell into a comfortable silence filled with the sounds of chewing and Bellatrix's grumblings as she drank her milk.

Biting into a strawberry, Hermione let her gaze wander outside. The clouds had returned overnight, and with them, more snow. Tiny ice-like pellets pelted the window and Hermione thanked Merlin that they didn't have a Hogsmeade trip that day.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Bellatrix asked suddenly into the silence.

Hermione sighed. She'd been thinking about Christmas more and more lately. She had thought about returning to The Burrow for the holidays, but the more she thought of it, the less she wanted a loud Christmas filled with Mrs. Weasley's fussing around and missing Ron and Harry. No, it would be more stressful and ultimately, more painful. But it was the only place she could go…

"Not really," she said gloomily.

"I had been wondering if, perhaps, if you chose to stay here, we could continue our lessons more frequently in order to speed up your learning," her professor said while examining her perfect nails in a bored fashion. "And then, if you wish, you could join me for Christmas dinner with Remus and Dora. I'm sure they wouldn't mind, they both speak very highly of you. And it would give you a chance to catch up with the recent activities of the Order."

"Really?" Hermione gasped, surprised. A giddy feeling spread through her chest and she grinned. "I would love that! But, are you sure you want to invite me to a family event?"

"I told you, Dora adores you! She'll love the idea."

"Well… then, thank you," Hermione said shyly, sipping her milk.

Bellatrix smiled softly and took a bite of toast. She really didn't know where the invitation had come from – she hadn't planned on bringing the girl to dinner – but somehow it felt right and she was glad.

* * *

Back in her room, Hermione found it hard to stop smiling. Digging through her trunk, she pulled out the journal and cast the charms. She had a new message from the boys.

_**Hermione, things aren't going so well. Ron is getting really impatient – always has a high temper, always grumpy… for his part, Malfoy has been dealing with it alright. Until Ron attacked him. It was horrible. Ron accused him of being a spy and started calling him and his mum awful names and Malfoy snapped. They started dueling. Malfoy was clearly winning – he knocked Ron clean out and I had to disarm him before anything else happened. Malfoy apologized later, but Ron has been keeping his distance. I think it's the locket. It gets to him more than me and Malfoy. Doesn't help that we still have no way of destroying it and no good way of getting into Gringotts. **_

_**I can't even say how much we miss you, 'Mione. Your cool head, your smarts, even your jokes that aren't that funny! Sorry, just saying we miss you. I hope Ginny's well. Is she going back to The Burrow for the holidays? What are your plans? We kind of lose track of days here, not even sure what day it is, but we know Christmas is approaching. Sometimes we're able to steal a newspaper, but we haven't been near a town for a few days. **_

_**Hermione, I've been thinking… I want to go to Godric's Hollow. It's where I was born, where my parents died, it's the birthplace of Gryffindor himself, Dumbledore lived there… it means so much to so many people; I can't help but feel like I need to go. **_

_**I know I keep telling you this, 'Mione, but be careful. Things are getting worse out here. We nearly ran into a few Snatchers the other day. Creepy blokes. Ron says one was definitely part troll he smelled so bad. Talk soon, our love – Harry**_

_Boys, one: it's December 12__th__. Two: if you really feel like you have to go, Harry, do it. Just be cautious. Everyone is out looking for you. _

_Unfortunately, there's not much to catch you up on here. The Carrows are horrible, but the professors do their best to help. Everyone is improving in the DA; Neville's also a great teacher. He's so happy to be doing something. Same with Luna. I think there may be something between the two of them. Lavender's becoming a skillful Mediwitch. Ginny misses you. She keeps herself busy with the DA to compensate. I think I'll be staying here over Christmas break and then spend Christmas dinner with Dora and Remus. _

Hermione felt obliged to tell Harry she would be seeing his father's old friend, but she could not bring herself to tell them that she would be going with Bellatrix. _Bellatrix? Since when did she think of the professor as Bellatrix? _

_I'll be sure to send your love to them, Harry. Dora must be getting impatient – I don't think she enjoys having to stay behind with her ever-growing belly. Keep me updated when you can. Stay safe. We'll work on destroying the locket. Try to be patient with Ron. My love – Hermione_


	21. Chapter 21

"Come on you stupid mongrels, cast the bloody curse!"

All the seventh years stood in a line, each one paired with a weeping first year that had the horrible misfortune of being given detention by one of the Carrows during another of Snape's frequent absences. The older students who were left to cast the Cruciatus Curse on the poor little ones sobbed and shook; their faces pale and some eerily emotionless as they finally tortured their victim. Many had given in just to end the torment. Hermione's ears bled from all the first years' screams. When Lavender had cracked and cursed her little Hufflepuff boy, the girl had fallen to the floor with him, sobbing hysterically and screaming, "I'm sorry so sorry I'm sorry please I'm sorry!"

Seamus looked as though he would be sick, Ernie _did_ throw up, and Hannah Abbot nearly fainted when the first of the students started screaming. Now, there was only Hermione and Neville left facing their two small Ravenclaws. Both children shook with fear and cried out when the professor screamed at the older students. But the Gryffindors stared him down.

"We refuse," Neville said in a voice hard as nails. Beside him, Hermione nodded and glared poisonous daggers at the despicable man.

The Death Eater chuckled darkly. "You refuse; that right? Well then…" he lifted his wand slowly towards the younger students and then, as his lips formed the curse, he whipped around and a fiery jet of red light shot straight at Hermione. Biting her tongue, Hermione tried to fight the pain, but she felt the scream rip through her soul and out her throat. She was drowning in fire; hot needles pierced her skin over and over; her insides twisted in agony and tears ran freely down her cheeks. And then it all stopped and she lay there panting and sweating on the cold stone floor. She tasted blood in her mouth. Above her, Neville's eyes shone with unshed tears and his jaw trembled with rage.

Hermione's gaze rolled back to the professor who stood grinning, dirty yellow teeth on full display. "I refuse," she croaked, her throat raw from her screaming. The Death Eater's grin morphed into a scowl and a growl escaped his throat. Stalking forward, he stood imposingly above the young witch, who had gingerly lifted herself onto her knees.

"I will make you regret that." Before Hermione could blink, a hand connected with the side of her face and she was back on the ground, spitting blood from a split lip as an eye began to swell shut. More tears sprang to her eyes, but her fury burned them away. A foot kicked her in the stomach and she felt bile rise in her throat. In her ringing ears, she heard a roar. _Where'd the lion come from?_ her hazy mind asked as black shadows danced in the corners of her vision.

And then something heavy landed on the ground just to her left. More bile rose in her throat and horrified cries sounded around the room as Carrow repeatedly punched and kicked Neville while the young man did his best to fight off his attacker. Hermione heard a sickening crack, and then Neville lay still, blood flowing from his nose and already bruising eyes. His eyes were closed and many cuts marred his face.

Carrow stood and spat on the motionless form of her friend and Hermione felt her wand twitch in her hand. Never before had she wanted to curse someone so badly – to make them hurt, to make them cry out, to have them beg her for mercy.

Seeing Hermione's grip tighten on her wand from the corner of his eye, the professor took a few steps back over to the girl and kicked the wand out of her hand. She gasped; he must have broken a finger or two.

"Next time, you should think twice before refusing me, stupid Mudblood." Two more kicks landed in Hermione's stomach and her vision blurred and began to fade again. Dark robes fluttered above her, two young screams sounded; then she heard the classroom door slam.

Many of the students around her sunk to the floor. Some cried onto friend's shoulders and others simply stared at the figures lying on the floor.

"Somebody, get help," Hannah yelled, voice thick with tears, as she leaned over Neville, cradling his head in her lap. Seamus and Ernie ran to the door and disappeared down the hall. Above her, Hermione saw Terry Boot settle down beside her and felt him pull a strand of hair from her bruised face. Hermione took shallow breaths. With each inhale, she felt sharp stabs of pain.

Lavender kneelt down beside Hannah and checked Neville over. The young witch felt his pulse, gingerly opened his eyes and checked pupal responses with a light from her wand. Then she gingerly pressed on his ribs and let out a slow, heavy sigh. "I think he'll be okay," she said, leaning back on her haunches. "A few cracked and broken ribs, broken cheekbone and nose, black eyes, a concussion no doubt… Pomfrey will be able to fix him up, though. A couple of nights in the Hospital Wing is all…" Standing, she then made her way over to Hermione. She repeated the process. "A few cracked ribs… one might be broken and close to piercing your lung, though… a nice shiner and a bruised cheekbone, a split lip, couple broken fingers… You should be back on your feet by tomorrow afternoon."

Hermione tried to nod her thanks, but the movement just made her dizzy, so she settled for a lopsided smile, to which Lavender gave a small chuckle while holding back tears. On the other side of the room, Ernie burst through the doors soon followed by Madam Pomfrey and Seamus returned with Professors McGonagall and Black.

"Oh dear!"

"Oh my goodness!"

"What the fucking hell!"

The trip to the Hospital Wing was a series of blurs, hazy voices that made little sense, and intense pain as Hermione was settled back down on a bed. Donning her apron and cap, Lavender put herself to work, gathering supplies for Madam Pomfrey and following orders to the letter. McGonagall stayed behind to care for the traumatized first and seventh years, but Professor Black followed the matron back to the Hospital Wing, aiding her in levitating the incapacitated students.

Now, the witch stood to the side, out of the way of the Mediwitches with a murderous look on her beautiful porcelain face.

It must have taken Pomfrey and her assistants a few hours to fix them up for the night, for the afternoon light that filtered through the windows had darkened and twilight was fast approaching. Throughout the process, Hermione felt herself slip in and out of consciousness, probably due to the sweet pink liquid Lavender kept pouring down her throat.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey wiped her hands on her blood-spotted apron and deemed them ready to sleep. She administered a green potion to Neville and Hermione watched as her friend's body went slack and a peaceful look settled over his features. Then the matron approached her with the same green potion and bade her lean forward to drink it all. The thick, minty substance slid easily down her raw throat and she felt a warm, heavy feeling creep through her body. Leaning back on her pillow, her eyelids became heavy and Pomfrey returned to her office.

From the growing darkness, an even darker form took shape as it stepped from the shadows. Bellatrix had stayed the entire time, watching as the witches healed the broken students. Her black eyes kept returning to the bruised face of the young witch lying on the bed.

Slowly, she sat on the side of Hermione's bed and ran the back of her hand down the unharmed cheek, her heart beating at an irregular rate. _My poor little witch… so stupidly brave… _from Lavender, she heard the story of how the two had refused to cast the Cruciatus Curse on the first years and thus had earned themselves a rather brutal and barbaric beating.

The anger that she had kept down on simmer suddenly began to boil and her face turned dark and fire lit her eyes. _Those bastards. _She gently ran her hand through a mess of bushy brown hair. Despite the sweat and blood, the strands were still soft. Leaning down, she pressed a soft peck to the sleeping witch's forehead. "Get well soon, pet. You're not skipping out on our lessons this easily." Easing herself off the bed, she slipped from the Hospital Wing like a ghost creeping between the shadows. She crept through the corridors with her destination clear in her mind. She grinned a wicked grin. She was on the hunt, out for blood. A natural predator, it felt good to feel her dark power course through her veins with intent to harm. It had been too long since she dealt with fuckers like these and had the opportunity to dish out the same punishment on them.

* * *

The room was dark and deadly silent. The only sounds were the low breathing of the sole occupant and, if one could hear it, the sound of the fiery amber liquid sloshing in a glass as this person sipped Firewhiskey. The curtains had been drawn tight so no light from outside would illuminate the figure waiting in the sitting room. The hearth remained cold.

_Dinner will have finished by now… they'll be back any second. _

There was the sound of a key sliding home and the _click _as the door unlocked and a creak as it opened. The light from the corridor silhouetted the two people stepping into the room, but the one waiting inside remained in darkness.

There was the taste of magician the air and the hearth roared to life. Two startled gasps filled the room.

"What are you doing here, Black?" Alecto snarled.

_She had always been quicker with words than her brother, _Bellatrix mused as she twirled her wand around lazily between her dexterous fingers.

"Clearly waiting for you both," she responded with a cruel grin. "I hope you don't mind; I helped myself to some of your whiskey." She lifted the glass to them and gulped the alcohol in one shot and licked her red lips clean.

"What do you want?" Amycus demanded, standing stupidly in front of the open door.

With a wave of her wand, the door slammed shut and the bolt and locks slid into place.

"What I want is quite a simple thing, really." Like a cat flexing before the pounce, Bella shifted in the wing-back chair, her eyes never straying from the twins. Her smile widened as she saw them both flinch involuntarily at her small movements. _Glad to see my reputation is still alive. _"What you did today, Amycus, was disgusting and cowardly. Really? Lowering yourself to the stature of a Muggle by physically _beating _your students into submission? As a Death Eater, you should be able to instill enough fear into a student's heart to make them jump at your command! But alas, even the beatings didn't work."

The man ground his teeth and raised his wand. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Alecto do the same. _Going for a tandem attack… how very predictable. _

"I saw the two Gryffindors you dealt with," she said and the image of Hermione and Longbottom lying bleeding on the ground materialized clearly in her mind. The anger in her heart intensified and seared her soul. It was so obvious and hardly a surprise when, with a battle cry, Alecto launched her first spell, quickly followed by one from her brother.

Bellatrix easily deflected them; one sent back towards the twins and the other to the window. The glass shattered and the freezing winter wind and snow blew through the room as the three dueled back and forth.

The ex-Auror danced giddily around the sitting room, dodging, deflecting, and extinguishing everything they threw at her. _Oh, how I've missed this!_ She had always felt free as a bird during battle, as happy as a lark, and as powerful as a soaring eagle. Having had enough of the defensive, Bellatrix turned on her attack. Spells shot from her wand at blinding speed and with deadly accuracy. The twins stumbled and faltered, catching themselves at the last moment to block yet another spell.

Bellatrix saw an opening. She threw a _Sectumsempra _at Alecto, banking that her brother would go to her defense. He did. They managed to block the deadly curse, but Bellatrix deftly disarmed Amycus and soon after Alecto's wand joined her brother's in Bella's outstretched hand. She hit both of them with a weak _Stupefy, _knocking them to the ground and used _Incarcerous _to bind them.

Amycus avoided her stare, but Alecto glared back with a look so full of hate, it made Bellatrix cackled in mirth. Raising her wand once more, she pointed the extension of her arm at the brother. Her gaze never wavered, fire burning deep inside.

"Let's see how much you enjoy your teaching methods, Amycus." A flash of red engulfed the room, and the man's pathetic screams were music to Bella's ears. _It took Hermione longer than this to start screaming, _she thought, smiling at the thought of her brave little witch resisting the torture.

She ceased. The man lay panting and sweating on the floor. He spat out blood; he bit his tongue. Another flash of red. Both twins writhed and screamed on the floor, still bound by her spell. Bellatrix had no fear of interruption; she had cast a Silencing Charm over the private chambers so no one would disturb them and interrupt her retribution.

Her wand lowered and not a second later, her heeled boot connected with Amycus's nose. Beneath her heel, the bone cracked and blood spewed like water from a broken faucet. A kick to Alecto's ribs earned her a pained grunt.

From her robes, Bella pulled out one of her most prized possessions. A sharp, silver dagger glinted in her hand from the light of the fire. The runes shone brightly – the ones that magically enhanced the pain the knife would inflict on her victim. Leaning forward, her lips brushed against Amycus's ear and he flinched away, cowering like a little, frightened animal. She grinned in satisfaction. "This is to remind you how torture feels," she whispered before flicking her wrist. A flash of silver passed beneath his eye and he hissed as the cold metal bit into his cheek, leaving behind a long line that instantly welled with blood and dripped tiny beads of it like rubies.

She turned her attention to the sister. The witch still refused to look away. _This one's stubborn… much more fun than her brother. _"Psychological torture is your preferred method, it is not, dearie? Well, in that case…" Bellatrix leaned forward and whispered darkly in the woman's ear.

Amycus watched his sister's face as Bellatrix spoke to her. At first, Alecto fought it. She tried tuning out the words, but soon her mask cracked and fear sparked behind the eyes identical to his own. Pulling back slightly, Black cut Alecto's cheek – the one opposite side as Amycus's.

Standing tall, Bellatrix strode back to the decanter of Firewhiskey and poured herself another shot. Smacking her lips as she downed it, she threw the glass into the fire where it shattered and the fire gave a little explosion of flames and sparks.

"Back to your question, Amycus. What I want is for you to remember this moment before you touch my students again." Throwing open the door, she exited the twins' rooms and slammed the door shut behind her. A flick of her wand removed all of her spells from the premises and she turned to leave. Should she visit the Hospital Wing once more or go back to her room?

"Bellatrix, what have you done?"

Turning back, Bellatrix came face to face with a wary-looking Minerva. Much like she had the night Moody died, the witch looked old and tired. Placing a comforting hand on the older woman's shoulder, Bellatrix stared earnestly into wise and weary green eyes. "Nothing you didn't want to do."


	22. Chapter 22

December twenty-second came quickly for Hermione. Soon, the Great Hall would empty out and very few students would be left to inhabit the castle as many of them and faculty members returned to their families for the holidays. Seated at the Gryffindor table, Hermione enjoyed her last meal with her friends for the current year. It was normal now to have Luna join them at their table – Hermione could hardly recall the last time she had eaten with the other Ravenclaws. Luna's innocent indifference towards the separation of Houses greatly amused many of the professors and encouraged other students to mingle more freely.

"Are you sure you don't want to come home with me for Christmas, 'Mione? Mum would love it and there'd be another girl there for me to talk to," Ginny pleaded for the millionth time since Hermione had told them her plans to stay at Hogwarts for the break.

Smiling kindly, Hermione patted her friend's arm. "Thank you, Ginny, but I'm sure. I need some time to myself. This is the perfect time for me to catch up on school and sleep."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, even with everything you've been up to, you're still ahead of everyone in your school work!"

"But not as much as I would like to be," she countered playfully, but still, honestly. Beside her, Neville choked on his pudding while poorly hiding a laugh. Over the past week and a half, the bruises around his eyes had reduced to a yucky yellow, his cuts had mostly healed except for one that crossed over one cheek, and he was laughing freely without pain in his ribs.

Hermione had also healed over that time. Her lip would most likely scar permanently, but everything else has been fixed up. The two of them often laughed about their matching yellow bruises and cuts and it frustrated Ginny to see them laughing off their torture so lightly. When she finally confronted them about it, the two friends had simply shared a look and said that there was nothing else to do about it.

Since then, the Carrows had been unnaturally subdued. The next class Hermione had with either of them, she noticed the similar cuts of their cheeks and wondered what had inflicted them. Among the students, the appearance of the scars had begun many rumors, some less convincing than others.

In one rumor, the students recounted how Hermione and Neville had snuck into the Carrows' rooms while they slept and gave them each a scar to match with their own. In another, they said it was McGonagall defending her Gryffindors, but the wildest was that the twins had mixed their blood in some weird, kinky Pure-blood-twin ritual.

As expected, the first one quickly gained more and more popularity. Since that afternoon in the Art of Dueling, Hermione and Neville had been turned into walking symbols of courage for the school. The Golden Girl and the Boy with the Lion's Roar – the great Hogwarts defenders! The two seventh years had tried denying the rumors of their retribution, but their denials were merely fodder to the flame. Often times, Hermione wondered if this was how Harry had felt, being the Boy Who Lived. It was awfully exhausting.

"So what are you and your dad planning to do over the break, Luna?" Hermione asked the chipper blonde.

"Well, Daddy has been working hard on Harry's support system at _The Quibbler_, so I'll probably help him by adding some articles about the old Dumbledore's Army and the Carrows here at Hogwarts and try to gain sympathy from the readers," she answered rather seriously.

"Wow, well, uh, good luck, Luna," Ginny stuttered in surprise while the others nodded their agreement. They all finished their pudding and Neville stood reluctantly.

"We should be heading down to the carriages soon, girls. The train leaves in an hour."

Rising with him, Ginny and Luna gave their goodbye hugs and gave their holiday wishes to Hermione as they left the Great Hall with Neville, who promised her a present in the post. Smiling Hermione waved back to them and felt a warmth blossom through her chest as heels clicked down the aisle behind her.

"Well I thought they'd never leave," a husky voice said from behind her back.

"They're my friends; they wanted to wish me well."

"That's all well and good, but I have plans for you, pet, and they do not include any of your _friends._"

Hermione felt a small shiver run down her spine and heat spike in her body. She was unsure when the attraction to her professor had started, but she could not deny the effect the professor's words had on her imagination and, by consequence, her body.

Hermione followed the woman from the emptying hall and down the corridors to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Stepping inside, the older witch closed the door and cast her usual wards.

"You're out of practice, pet. We've only had one lesson in the past two weeks," the professor said as she stalked around the young woman. School no longer being in session, the students were now permitted to forgo the robes and uniform and Bellatrix quite admired the way Muggle jeans and a jumper fit the little witch. Even if the jumper was a hideous pink.

"Have you ever tried disobeying Madam Pomfrey? She said to do nothing strenuous for a week – I was barely allowed back to class!" Hermione argued.

"Excuses won't win you any favours, pet." The professor winked. "Again, we're going to work on you pushing me out. Give it your all on the first shove. Use anger, love, whatever emotion you find to be the strongest to get me out of your head."

Readying themselves, the witches stood facing each other. Gripping her wand in her hand, Hermione's face was determined as she watched Bellatrix raise her curved wand.

"_Ligilimens." _

**Hermione was back in the Forest gathering the moly for her professor. Using the little spade, she dug the flower from the ground… **

Hermione gave an exploratory shove. The memory wavered momentarily, then settled in on a later time the night of her first detention with the professor.

**Hermione slipped and squished her way through the swamp gathering the frogs. Stumbling from the muck with the last one, she grinned at her professor. **As past-Hermione turned away from the professor, present-Hermione watched the memory of her professor, as dark eyes skirted down past-Hermione's figure while she was turned away. _What? Did she just check me out? _Feeling a little flutter in her stomach, Hermione shoved again and landed in her memory of the Three Broomsticks.

**Hermione drank heavily from her wine glass. **Hermione cringed as she watched herself get steadily drunker. **Hermione tried avoiding the professor's gaze and her eyes landed on the expanse of cleavage exposed above the top of the woman's tightly laced corset. **Hermione watched her own face redden as her eyes tried to find something else to look at. _Why the hell is she smirking? _Hermione thought as she watched the memory play out like a film. Shaking the thought away, the young witch shoved again.

**The room was dark as two witches stumbled around. Bellatrix pushed Hermione down on the Gryffindor's bed and Hermione argued she needed pajamas. The professor turned to the chair the young woman pointed to and Hermione began to undress, oblivious to the impropriety. **Hermione felt herself redden in embarrassment as her professor turned around. **Seeing the girl half naked, Bellatrix nearly dropped the pajamas and her eyes drank in the sight of the scantily clad girl. **Watching the professor unconsciously lick her lips, Hermione felt a surge of heat course through her. _She thinks I'm pretty… she knows I think she's beautiful… _captivated by the memory, Hermione let it play out. **The professor tucked the young witch into bed and Hermione quickly snuggled in. "What, you get me drunk and you don't even steal a good night kiss?" she asked from beneath the blankets. **

"**Takes a lot more than that to get a kiss out of me, Granger," the woman responded. **

"**Noted. Night, Professor." **

"**Good night, pet," she whispered back softly, brushing a stray strand of bushy brown hair away from Hermione's face. **

Stunned, Hermione blinked in surprise. She did not remember this from that night – the way Bellatrix gently, almost lovingly, brushed away her hair, the subtle flirting. Hermione gave another push and nearly succeeded at pushing the witch from her thoughts, but Bellatrix held fast.

**Hermione sobbed brokenly on the floor. Bellatrix pulled her into her lap. Clutching the woman tightly, the young witch cried until there was nothing left for her to cry out. **Hermione's heart constricted as Bellatrix comforted her and fought back her own tears. She heard the whispered words.

"**Hush, hush; it's okay, love, it'll be okay. Calm down, pet, I've got you. It's all going to be okay… Oh, my sweet, sweet, little witch… I know it hurts, but you're so much stronger than you think you are. And you're not alone." **And then the witch did something unexpected. **Red lips then pressed the softest of kisses to her forehead and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed. **

Feeling overwhelmingly giddy, Hermione had no need to see more. Her suspicions had substance! Bellatrix might actually have feelings for her. An excited and happy warmth filled her body and Hermione gave one last push, backed by all the powerful emotions her heart pumped through her system. The professor's presence in her mind extinguished, but Hermione did not open her eyes. Her mind's eye swirled through the air like a leaf caught in the wind and followed Bellatrix back into the older witch's own mind.

Hermione felt a tightness in her gut and a terrified and furious shriek sounded in her mind, but the connection was too strong. Still strengthened by her feelings for the professor; she could not escape the scene that was unfolding before her.

**In a grand black marble foyer, a man with white-blond hair held another man by his uncombed hair. Blood trickled down the man's face and his body shook with pain. From a door off to the side, four women were escorted into the foyer by someone who instantly struck a cold fear into everyone. **

Hermione recognized three of four of the women. **A seventeen-year-old Bellatrix followed directly behind Voldemort with her two younger sisters, Andromeda and the little blonde Narcissa. Behind the youngest girl, a statuesque woman with hair the colour of raven wings and a cold, impassive face walked as silently as a shadow. Druella Black, the mother of the three sisters. **

**Voldemort bid the women line up in front of the two men. **Hermione saw the sudden change in Druella's face as her ice-blue eyes landed on the bleeding man in front of them. Her face became impossibly paler and her entire body began to tremble. No one else noticed.

"**Children, do you recognize this man?" Voldemort asked them. **

"**Professor Richard Cuttingham**. **He teaches Muggle Studies at Hogwarts," Andromeda replied automatically. **

"**Yes, very good. ** **Do you know what he is?"**

**The three girls stared at the man confused. **

"**This… **_**scum**_** pretends to be a wizard, but he is nothing more than a disgusting thief. He is a Mudblood." **

**Andromeda swallowed and Narcissa's eyes widened in fear at the frigidity of Voldemort's voice. **

**Their father pulled the man's hair tighter, his pale wand pointed like a knife at his neck. **

"**What is the meaning of this, Cygnus?" Druella asked in what was meant to be a bored tone, but fear had crept into her voice and the words shook slightly. **

"**This is meant to be a learning experience for the girls, Dru. They have to learn what happens to filth when it pretends to be something greater than itself," Cygnus answered and spit on Richard's face. **

**Druella flinched. Voldemort pulled out his wand. A flash of red surrounded the people gathered on the black marble floor and Richard shook and grunted in pain, but contained his screams. Until Voldemort repeated the curse with more force. He let the man scream through his torture. Silent tears fell down the two elder girls' faces and Narcissa sobbed openly, her young heart breaking for her professor. **

**Beside her youngest daughter, Druella stared horrified as the man screamed and squirmed on her pristine floor. Her body shook almost as much as the man in pain and tears filled her previously cold eyes, now alive with feeling. **

"**NO STOP!" she screamed and flung herself down beside the man so suddenly that Voldemort ended the torture. "NO! Please, please don't kill him, please! Have mercy on him!"**

"**Why should I?"**

"**Because…"**

"**What is this?" Cygnus demanded as he watched his wife cry beside the panting professor. **

**Voldemort smiled. **Hermione shivered in fear at the malice in the man's face. She wished she could leave, but she had not learned how to pull herself from someone else's memories, she was rooted in place.

"**Isn't it clear, Cygnus. Your wife has feelings for this filth."**

**The three young girls gasped in time with their father. **

"**NO!" he shouted as he grabbed his wife's shoulders. "Tell me it's not true, Dru. TELL ME!" **

**Druella cried harder, turning her face away from that of her husband. **

"_**Ligilimens," **_**Voldemort whispered. Druella's body jerked violently, but she did not resist. She knew there was no point. Voldemort chuckled softly. "It is true, Cygnus. This was your wife's first love. She kept him a secret. She still loves him." **

"**NOOOOO!" Bellatrix's father roared. He threw the mother of his children to the ground. "No… can it be true? A Pure-blood in love with a Mudblood! DISGUSTING!"**

"**This lesson shall be even more fruitful than I had expected, children," Voldemort said calmly. Raising his wand, another flash of red engulfed the scene. The man screamed. Druella cried and pleaded for mercy. **

**Flash of green then surrounded them and the man's screaming ended abruptly, but Druella's continued on even louder, a drone of endless screaming; endless pain. **

**Off to the side, the three daughters cried along with their mother, Bellatrix holding Andromeda steady with one arm and Narcissa with the other, while the young blonde watched with wide, horror-stricken eyes. **

"_**CRUCIO!" **_

"**NOOOOO! LEAVE HER ALONE!" Bellatrix screamed, and now it was Andromeda holding her older sister back from attacking Voldemort with her bare hands. "MOTHER!" Nothing stopped the torture. Narcissa did not move an inch, as though she had turned to stone. **

**Finally, after what felt like hours, Voldemort relented and let the woman breathe. Bellatrix watched the barely breathing heap of flesh and clothing on the floor. Eyes empty. Skin deathly pale, covered in sweat. Pale lips speckled with blood whispering a simple wish like a sick mantra… **

"**Kill me… kill me… kill me…" her mother whispered to her daughters. Her soulless eyes found those of her eldest daughter. "Please, kill me." **

"**Mother… Mother, no…" Bellatrix muttered and cried brokenly on the floor. Andromeda looked sick beside her sister and Narcissa had ceased crying. Her eyes watched the scene as if somehow distanced from it all. **

"**Watch, children. You see… I am a merciful Lord…" Voldemort whispered. He smiled at the girls and patted Bellatrix affectionately on the head. The girl flinched. Raising his wand, Voldemort ended it all. **_**"AVADA KADAVRA!"**_

Propelled from the memory, Hermione stumbled back and fell to the floor out of breath. She wiped her face. She'd been crying. She looked up at her professor.

Bellatrix's face, twisted in fury and pain, every emotion clearly written over her features, an open book Hermione found herself unable to close. "I didn't… I tried… I'm sorry…" Words tumbled from her lips and tears streaked down her professor's face.

"We're finished." In a swirl of black robes and high heels, Bellatrix disappeared through the door of the classroom and rushed down the hall until Hermione could no longer hear her.

_Oh my god… _


	23. Chapter 23

Slamming the door behind her, Bellatrix screamed bloody murder at the top of her lungs into the privacy of her room, grateful of the constant Silencing Charm she had in place.

_How the fuck did that happen? I couldn't get her out… she wasn't supposed to see that… how did she do that?_

Wiping at her teary eyes, Bellatrix paced around her sitting room, furious at everything. While pacing, she stubbed her toe on one of her footstools and screamed again. In a flash, it became kindling against the opposite wall. Tugging at her hair, she fought the tears that kept pooling in her eyes no matter how many times she wiped them away. _Get a fucking grip, Bella!_

She pressed her palms of each hand into her eyes, willing away the images of her mother's torture and death. Nothing was the same after that night…

Stumbling blindly through the room, Bellatrix found her Firewhiskey and took a large gulp from the bottle and nearly choked on the liquid fire burning its way down her throat and through her chest. _So stupid! _She slammed the bottle back down on her cabinet so hard the fancy crystal decanter by all rights should have shattered. She continued to pace the room until she could effectively block out all the sounds and visions from her memory, as she had practiced consistently throughout the past few decades. She kicked off her boots and tugged her hair free from the knot of a bun on top of her head. Wild black curls fell around her face and hid her eyes behind a curtain. Sinking into her chair, Bella pulled her knees up to her chest and focused on breathing. _Breathe… breathe… just keep breathing… in… out… in out… in out in out… kill… me… kill me… kill me kill me… ENOUGH!_

There was a knock on the door.

Pouncing to her feet, Bellatrix stomped to the door seething. _Minerva has the WORST bloody timing! _Yanking the door open, the witch stumbled back, startled by the figure on the other side of the threshold.

In the corridor, Hermione stood with her hand still raised to knock a second time. Quickly, the young Gryffindor pushed past the professor and into the room before the door could slam shut on her.

"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix growled, glaring at the girl.

Confidently and without a word, the young witch walked through Bella's sitting room to the bottle of whiskey. She poured two glasses and came back, handing one to the raven-haired woman. Taking her professor's hand, Hermione led the stunned witch to the loveseat and sat her down, and then took a seat beside her.

"You're too upset to be left alone," she stated simply, tucking her feet beneath her.

Bellatrix let out a strangled laugh. _Figures, this is what she ends up learning from me… drinking and butting into things that aren't her business. _

"I suppose you want to ask me what that was all about?"

"Only if you want me to," she said, taking a sip of the whiskey. Obviously not used to it, she made a slight face and a quiet choking sound, but took another small sip anyways.

Sitting in quiet thoughtfulness, Bellatrix contemplated her options. She could throw the girl out; obviously, the student had no real right being here in her private chambers uninvited. But she admired the girl's guts. No one else would have followed a raving Bellatrix back to her rooms to keep her company through a tantrum. She _could_ just sit here with the quiet company. Or she could open up to someone for the first time since she was seventeen.

She looked at the young witch. No, she had no desire to throw Hermione out. Leaning back, Bellatrix collected her thoughts. "Well… you saw what happened," she began slowly, decision made. "The Dark Lord was trying to recruit me at the time… and he wanted to turn my sisters' allegiance to him before they grew up too much. Cissy was barely twelve." She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a sip of whiskey to loosen her tongue. She wanted the girl to know what had happened to her family. It was about time someone heard her say it. "Later on, a few years later, I found my mother's old diaries. They were magically bound so no one would be able to open them but her, but I knew all my mother's tricks… I was a rather mischievous and gifted child… I learned that it was all true. She had fallen in love with Richard Cuttingham during their time at Hogwarts. They kept it secret – Mother didn't want her family to find out about him; they'd have killed him for sure. In their seventh year, he asked her to marry him even though she was already betrothed to my father. He promised they'd run away, someplace they'd both be safe. She turned him down. She was too afraid of what her family would think, of what the wizarding community would think. So, she went ahead and married my father and gave birth to my sisters and I. But she never stopped loving him. I remember she would sometimes visit the school – checking up on us, she would say. But I think she was secretly seeing Cuttingham, our Muggle Studies professor. And then The Dark Lord rose to power. He used Cuttingham as a tool, an example of what should happen to Muggle-borns and wizards who sympathized with them. You saw the rest… she protected him and died for it." Downing the rest of her drink, she stood to refill her glass.

"So… is that why your sisters, why they…"

"No, not really. You see, it had the opposite effect on Andromeda and me. It pushed us to fight against him; to get revenge for the death of our mother. But Cissy was never the same. Such a young girl… such a sweetheart… she couldn't take it. It turned her cold and she buried her feelings so deep I'm not sure if she can recognize them anymore. This, I suppose, explains her impartiality in the Wars. She does care for Lucius and would do anything for her son, those are the only two who can elicit any feeling from her."

"But then, Andromeda, she became –"

"Once I left Hogwarts, I joined the Order and trained to be an Auror. I was vicious. Moody loved it; he thought I was the most skilled out of all of them; I had the most drive, the bloodlust, a drive to be the best. Andy joined the Order, too, and she married a Muggle-born – Ted Tonks – a month after she graduated Hogwarts. Both of them started fighting in the war. And then Andy became pregnant at nineteen. They were beyond ecstatic. Somehow, the Dark Lord found out and… I'm still not sure how he did it – either with Polyjuice Potion or the Imperius Curse – but he made Ted torture Andy just like our mother was. He said… horrible things to her. Like how he couldn't trust a Pure-blood, a Black nonetheless; that she would turn on him and his child would be a monster like her and her family… I saw them… the memories… I couldn't believe it; I just know it wasn't Ted; he loved Andy more than anything! He threatened to kill the baby and Andy… but he didn't. He left her broken and bleeding on their kitchen floor. I found her when I went to visit the next afternoon." Bellatrix wiped away an errant tear, but her voice never wavered and she spoke clearly in the darkness of the room. "She was like Cissy, but worse… she couldn't feel _anything_. It broke her heart and she refused to heal it. She wouldn't speak to me or anyone; couldn't tell us what happened. We had to place her in St. Mungo's… then we found Ted the next night wandering around a little Muggle suburb. He was confused and lost and didn't know where he had been the past two nights. We arrested him for questioning. I told Andy while I was visiting one day and that was the first time I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. I left for work… the next thing I know, I get a Patronus from Moody – Andy had broken out of St. Mungo's and broken into the Ministry… she killed Ted… and stood over his dead body laughing… on her way, she had also killed three Mediwitches, two security guards, five Muggles, and the Auror that had been posted to watch Ted. Five months pregnant and she killed her husband and stood laughing over his _corpse!" _

Hermione's breath shook as she listened to Bellatrix. The woman had come back to the love seat. Not knowing exactly what to do – if she should do anything at all – Hermione placed her hand over the older witch's and gave it a squeeze. Bellatrix responded by holding the appendage tightly between her long fingers.

"We had to keep her in St. Mungo's until she gave birth… four months under twenty-four-hour multiple Auror watch… some nights we had to sedate her to keep people safe; other nights she was catatonic. Once Dora was born, I handed in my resignation to the Auror office and got the offer from Dumbledore to come and teach here. It worked out well, I could keep Dora with me… and Andy was shipped off to Azkaban. She was too dangerous to keep in St. Mungo's, no matter her state of mind and now that she wasn't pregnant… she broke out with the others two years ago and went straight to the top of The Dark Lord's army – a lieutenant or something. He values her skills over those of all others, he trusts her more, and she's his most loyal follower now. She hates Muggles and Muggle-borns for what Ted supposedly did. Now she's bloodthirsty and savage and cold…"

Hermione remembered the nights she had fought the witch, Andromeda Black – the Department of Mysteries, their battle in the sky, the Weasley wedding. It was clear Black had been holding back… a snake playing with her food before swallowing it whole. Hermione's eyes searched the dark ones before her. A single tear leaked out from the expressive orbs. Gently, Hermione reached up and brushed the drop away with her thumb. But her hand stayed against Bellatrix's cheek, slowly cupping it in her palm.

The dark witch sighed and leaned into the touch, her eyelids fluttering slightly. _How does she do this? _Bellatrix wondered as she felt her sadness and pain ease just a bit from the soft touch.

Hermione watched her professor. She watched Bellatrix. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the scent of the witch. So unique and delicious… those dark eyes swirled intoxicatingly beneath heavy lids that gave her expression an ever-seductive quality. Her eyes flicked to the red lips she knew felt soft on her skin. _She probably tastes like whiskey… _Hermione felt herself lean forward unconsciously. Sliding closer to the witch, Hermione wrapped an arm around Bellatrix's waist, both women staring deeply into each other's eyes. Faces a mere inch apart, Hermione stopped. "Bellatrix…" she breathed. It was the first time she'd dared utter the name… and it felt… right.

Bella felt the girl's breath on her lips, she could smell the lilac and vanilla and whiskey; she felt the softness of her body against her side. Her own breath shuddered. Her heart beat faster. Ever impulsive, Bellatrix surged forward. Soft lips connected, moulding together.

Hermione inhaled a sharp gasp and heat sparked in her veins. Bella's hand wove into her hair and pulled her closer against her body; pulling their lips together, crushing them together.

Hermione's heart beat erratically in her chest – she was sure it would explode. Heat began to pool in her stomach and her head swam in bliss. _Her lips are so soft, tastes like whiskey and sweetness and OH MY GOD HER BODY. _

The rough corset rubbed deliciously against her soft sweater and her hand gripped the woman's waist. During the haze of lust, Hermione suddenly found herself on her back with Bellatrix trapping her beneath her warm body. They moved together magically. Hermione's hand cupped the back of the woman's neck and pulled her mouth down to hers. A wet tongue slipped out and tasted Hermione's lower lip, seeking entrance. With a low moan, the young witch granted it happily to the witch. The hand on her hip burned through her clothes and her back arched into the woman on top of her – her body craving more physicality between the two bodies.

And then suddenly Hermione felt as though a bucket of cold water was splashed over her body. Blinking in the darkness, brown eyes searched for the other witch. Standing near the other end of the couch with the armrest between them, Bellatrix stood, panting, arms wrapped securely around herself.

"I think you should leave." The vulnerability in the soft voice pulled at Hermione's heart.

_She's scared… she's scared of letting me in… has she been with anyone else?... and I'm her student… she's scared. _

Hermione slowly rose to her feet, trying to keep her fear, panic, and hurt from pulling her crumbling to the ground.

As she passed the older woman, Hermione paused. Mustering her courage, she pressed a soft kiss to a warm cheek and whispered, "We'll talk about this later," in her ear.

Bellatrix watched her little witch leave her room and close the door behind her. When she was sure the girl was gone, she sank back down on the loveseat and let the tears wash down her face as loud sobs wracked through her body.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione woke, feeling ambivalent. She could hardly believe that she kissed Bellatrix; that Bellatrix _kissed her_. BELLATRIX! She grinned, thinking of her professor by her elegant first name. And then her smile faltered. _Did she actually want it? Is it love? Lust? Confusion? A side-effect of her pain? Was I wrong? _Thinking back to their kissing, she tried dismissing the latter. They would have to discuss this before Christmas dinner with Remus and Dora.

Getting out of bed, she dressed in comfy clothes and headed down for breakfast. The Great Hall was nearly deserted. To make the room seem less empty, the professors had taken out the four House tables and replaced them with one smaller rectangular table at which everyone was seated. Taking an empty seat, Hermione helped herself to the hash browns and sausages. One perk about the castle being empty was that the house elves made more special meals for the poor souls left behind.

A few students trickled in and out, along with the few staff members that remained. A sound at the other end of the hall made Hermione lift her head and her cheeks blushed rose. Bellatrix strode up to the table as tall and elegant as a proud mare. Taking an available seat across from Hermione, the witch poured a cup of coffee and helped herself to breakfast. Hermione tried to keep her gaze averted, but her eyes were constantly drawn back to the witch. She watched as Bellatrix nonchalantly ate her breakfast while reading the morning _Prophet_ and sipping her coffee contently – all evidence of last night's events erased. Hermione looked away and stared at the food she had not touched since the woman arrived.

"Miss Granger, are you well?" Professor McGonagall asked, her brows furrowing in concern over her cup of morning tea.

"Yes, Professor, just lost in thought." She popped a bite of potato into her mouth and chewed hurriedly. Just then, an odd feeling that had the hairs on the back of her neck rise up washed over her. Lifting her eyes, Hermione nearly choked. Bellatrix was staring at her.

_I can't show that the kiss makes things awkward, be brave; we're going to talk about it. Later. Today._

Quickly finishing her food, Hermione excused herself from the company and, sending a small smile to Bellatrix, exited the Great Hall in search of something to busy herself with until she could have that private chat with the professor.


	24. Chapter 24

"You know exactly why we can't!"

"But, Bellatrix, you can't deny it!"

"And that's another thing; what makes you think you can call me that? It's _Professor Black -_I'm still your professor!"

"You gave me the right when you snogged me on your sofa!" Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to calm her herself. This was not how she had hoped the conversation would go. Instead of being open and honest, Bella had built her walls up higher and stronger than they had ever been to Hermione before. "Please, just think clearly. Forget that I'm a student for a few moments. I'm of age – an adult – so there is no age issue –"

"No age issue? I'm _twice_ your age!"

"But I don't care! I'm nineteen and I can choose my own partners. There is a clear attraction between us, both emotional and physical. I just… Bellatrix I want to see if this is real!"

Arms crossed and with her face set in a deep frown, Bella stared out the window. The dark sky was covered by clouds and the wind whipped through the naked trees. A few feet away, Hermione stood leaning against the back of the sofa. They were at an impasse. It was all up to Bellatrix now. Hermione had stated her feelings clearly. There was no room for false interpretation on the matter. It all rested now on whether or not Bellatrix chose to act on these feelings. Sensing that the conversation had gone as far as it could for the day, Hermione took a chance and wrapped her arms around the witch and pressed a light kiss to her temple. "I'll come back tomorrow."

She left the room silently and Bellatrix passed a hand over her face. _Why is this happening now? How could this little witch make me feel like this NOW?! _She shook her head. She'd gone through most of her life able to keep people at arms-length, and now this girl comes back from summer a grown woman – _A completely irresistible grown woman! – _able to make her _feel_. She growled in frustration and ran her hands through her tangle of curls. _With this bloody war, we're probably both going to die…_

_Then what's stopping you?_ That one voice in her mind asked.

_She's too young, _her rational voice argued.

_She's nineteen. Completely legal._

_I'm too old…_

_That doesn't seem to bother her… _

Though time seemed to stop while Bellatrix thought, the outside world continued on. The clouds moved across the sky and the wind whipped the snow through the air. Night came. Her breath fogged the window. She wished she could vanish into the darkness of the forest and forget her problems.

_People won't approve. I'm her professor, there are rules!_

_Since when do you care about what people think? You were the most feared Auror of the century – the youngest ever to make it to the field – and now the most respected Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Students fear to say your name too loudly in the halls in case you suddenly appear… as for rules, you actively fought to break them when you were a student. What fun is something if you're _allowed _to do it? _

Outside, the sky beyond the horizon began to lighten and the early morning light reflected off the mirror-like surface of the ice-covered lake. Night had come and gone while Bellatrix stood transfixed, trapped in by the inner battle waging in her head.

The more Bellatrix listened to the voice, the less the rational voice made sense. In her mind's eye, she saw Hermione's bright smile, her kind eyes. She could feel the girl's body beneath her, and she felt her heartbeat rapidly at the thought. She could confide in the girl… the little witch listened to her and Bellatrix cared about what the other witch felt. Hermione had the power to open her up, make her talk, make the pain ease just by sharing the thoughts in her head. She felt a warm feeling she was not accustomed to blossom in her chest and she smiled softly at her reflection in the windowpane as the world outside brightened.

_Fuck it. It's my turn to be happy. If we die, so be it. If we live… I'll worry about that later._

* * *

Hermione spent Christmas Eve alone for the most part. In her room, she wrote to the boys, wishing them a happy and safe Christmas. In response, Harry wrote to tell her that he and the others would be visiting Godric's Hollow once night fell. No matter how hard Draco and Ron tried to dissuade him, he refused to change his mind. So they settled for a night they hoped everyone would be busy indoors.

Hermione could not argue that it seemed a likely place to find a clue, but she could not shake the feeling that it could be a trap. She implored them to use caution, but they did not respond after that.

Outside, snow fell heavily over the entire world it seemed. The wind blew the flakes around in freezing swirls and made the bare fingers of the trees dance mystically. The sky was entirely gray with thick clouds and made the horizon between the snow-covered earth and the sky barely discernible.

Something odd reflected back at her from her reflection in the window. Reaching up and wiping her cheek, her thumb came away wet. A few tears had escaped and tripped over her bottom eyelashes and ran slowly down her pale cheeks. Her lower lip trembled and more tears spilled over.

_I miss them. I miss Ron and Harry. I miss Mum and Dad. _Before she could take in a calming breath, the young witch doubled over with gut-wrenching sobs torn straight from her lonely heart.

_I've never felt so alone! I can't talk to my parents, I'm not with any of my friends, and Bellatrix thinks our kiss was a mistake! And to top it all off, the fate of the Wizarding World probably rests in my hands, along with a few other teenagers. We can't do this – I can't do this! _

Curled up on her bed and with a festive evening quickly approaching, Hermione cried and cried and cried until hours later, when she was finally able to breathe and only made the odd dry hiccupping noise; once she'd cried all her tears of loneliness. Reaching over, she picked up her alarm clock – a very Muggle alarm clock – to check the time. Squinting into the darkness, she could barely read the hands.

"_Lumos." _Light flared from the wand she held between her fingers and she blinked away yet more tears from the sudden brightness. The hands read quarter to seven. "Bloody hell!" Leaping from her bed, Hermione snatched the dress clothes she had previously laid out and thanked her lucky stars she was such an obnoxiously well-prepared student. She changed like lightning and quickly made her way to her small bathroom and dampen her hair and tame the wild mess of bushiness that sat atop her head.

She hardly believed she could have forgotten! McGonagall had sent messages to every one of the students who remained for the holidays early that afternoon, informing them that they would all be dining together in the Great Hall at seven in the evening sharp to celebrate Christmas Eve.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth and put on what little makeup she owned and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were still slightly bloodshot and her face a little blotchy, but there was nothing she could do about it now at five minutes to seven. Slipping her feet into her little black heels, she bolted out her door, not bothering to set up any locks or wards since the castle was so empty and everyone would be present at dinner. She ran as fast as she could in her heels. She passed portraits, with their subjects celebrating; she passed ghosts and did not return their well-wishes, and she dodged a very smug-looking Peeves and finally arrived at the Great Hall, out of breath and slightly sweaty.

"Well, Miss Granger, I'm so glad you could join us," a crisp and irritated voice said from the center of the room. Professor McGonagall, along with all the other students and faculty members were already seated around a beautifully set table. All around, the Great Hall had been turned into a Christmas Wonderland. Twelve decorated spruces stood around the room, transforming the hall into a small forest. Garland hung with bows and fairy lights on the walls and hundreds of warm candles burned brightly as they floated magically through the air. Above them, light and fluffy snowflakes fell from the ceiling but disappeared before they fell on any of the guests.

Cheeks glowing with embarrassment, Hermione quickly strode to the large, circular table. "I apologize, Professor, I lost track of time." Her eyes went around locating her empty seat. On the other side of the table. Right next to Bellatrix. _Bollocks. _Steeling her nerves, she walked with a straight back and took her seat. On her plate, there was a small, snowy white name-card with her name. _Miss Hermione Granger_. Written in an elegant black script she had to come to immediately recognize. _Bellatrix made the seating arrangements? She wants me next to her? _She shook herself and removed the place-card and tried not to acknowledge Bellatrix's subtle gaze. _No time to think about it now, just focus on enjoying tonight and getting through this dinner. _And then suddenly, she jumped and bit her lip to suppress a squeak of surprise. Warmth spread through her body, originating from a spot on her thigh. She looked down. A pale, long-fingered hand with magnificently manicured nails was spread over her knee. _Bellatrix's hand. _The woman wiggled her hand and Hermione's eyes were drawn to the delicate gold watch that encircled the woman's thin wrist. Two minutes passed seven. _Two minutes late and McGonagall is ready to give me detention. _Looking up into impossibly deep, dark eyes, Hermione felt herself begin to fall into them. She blinked. Bella smiled and shot a pointed look at the Head of Gryffindor. Then, turning back to the young woman, she mouthed the words _picky witch. _Hermione snorted and tried to hide a bark of laughter. _Maybe… just maybe? _

McGonagall stood – her annoyance at Hermione's tardiness suppressed just barely – and addressed the table. "Welcome, and good evening to everyone. I understand that it may be difficult to be here, away from your families at this time of year, but know that everyone at this table, for now, and for always, can be considered family. Hogwarts is a place where witches and wizards come together to learn and to grow together. It becomes home to us all and we come to love and trust each other within these walls. So please accept this wish for a wonderful Christmas from someone who cares about each and every one of you." She lifted her glass in a toast and they all followed suit, accompanied with many cries of _hear hear!_

The revered professor sat back in her seat and clapped her hands together once. Food appeared suddenly on the table – a feast fit for kings.

The meal lasted more than two hours. The atmosphere was lighter and more joyful than it had been for the past few months with the absence of the three Death Eaters. Professor Flitwick surprised all the students – as well as McGonagall – with wizard crackers. They were passed around to every second person and each took a partner and pulled. Bellatrix turned to Hermione with a wolfish grin and held up her cracker and presented the opposite end to the young witch. With a smirk, Hermione grasped the offered end and pulled. With a loud _crack_, the toy exploded, and magical confetti, a purple puff of smoke, a lacy black witch's hat, and butterflies flew out from inside.

Lifting her end of the cracker, Bella presented the larger half. With a cackle of triumphant childish laughter, Bellatrix claimed her prize and placed the hat on top of her magnificent curls. She sent a victorious smirk to Hermione, her heavy-lidded eyes speaking the unspoken taunt. _I win! _

A shiver passed from head to foot through the brunette. Her stomach did an amazing little flip-flop and her heartbeat erratically. She rolled her eyes, but her lips parted in a heartwarming grin at the woman's adorable – and juvenile – attitude.

If Hermione was impressed by dinner, she was flabbergasted by dessert. Cakes, tarts, puddings, chocolates, fruits… anything Hermione could imagine was presented before them on the large table.

She was incredibly full from dinner, but she could not pass on such delectable looking treats.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Bellatrix reach and pluck a chocolate-covered strawberry from a platter and wrap her lips around it. It probably shouldn't have been – especially with so many people present – but Hermione found it more than a little erotic to watch the dark witch eat the fruit. Her mouth went dry as other parts of her were decidedly _not _dry. And then Bella winked. A quick little show, _meant _to catch her attention and turn her on.

Hermione felt her cheeks flame as she turned back to her plate. _It is now my New Year's resolution to be rid of this stupid blushing habit. _

Once the desserts were cleared away and pots of tea and coffee and bottles of various spirits appeared on the table, McGonagall promptly sent the younger students back to their dormitories. It was now approaching midnight, and she informed them all that no one would be excused from the 9 am Christmas breakfast. With a pointed look at Hermione, she stressed that tardiness would be seen as a personal insult.

Beside her, Bellatrix shook with laughter and bit her tongue between her front teeth. Glaring at the woman, Hermione spoke in a hard whisper, "That means _you _can't sleep in either, _Professor. _So hold back on the whiskey."

That certainly dampened Bellatrix's mood slightly, but nonetheless, the witch sipped her tumbler of Firewhiskey and refilled it liberally.

With the little ones gone, the professors had the table shrunken to better accommodate the smaller size of their group.

Seated around the table, there were three fifth years: a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin; five sixth years: one Hufflepuff, two Ravenclaws, and two Gryffindors, and as for seventh years, there were quite a few more. Hermione, Seamus, and Lavender were the Gryffindors; Justin, Ernie, and Megan Jones from Hufflepuff; Terry, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw, and two from Slytherin – Daphne Greengrass, who's younger sister sat as the fifth-year Slytherin, and Tracey Davis.

From what Hermione knew of Christmases spent in the castle, this was quite a few students to stay behind. She suspected many families believed that Hogwarts would still be the safest places for them or – like Seamus and Lavender and many of the seventh years – the older students refused to leave in order to be available to help.

In pairs, the students slowly trickled out and off to bed, leaving more and more empty seats around the table. Hermione did not wish to leave to return to her cold and empty room. Finally, there was only Seamus, Ernie, Justin, and herself left seated with the professors. The boys laughed loudly as Hagrid and Professor Slughorn performed a duet of an old English folk song rather drunkenly and off-key, while Professor Flitwick waved his wand like a conductor's baton, occasionally accidentally charming Hagrid's beard to grow and shrink in length. McGonagall tried to disapprove, but a small smile kept forming over her lips while she sipped her wine. On either side of her, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout clapped along to what little tune there was and laughed merrily. Madam Hooch, Hermione was surprised to see, engaged Bellatrix in a silent game of _who-can-drink-more-to-drown-out-the-idiocy. _By her count, Bellatrix was up to four Firewhiskeys, two Sherries, and a glass of wine, and Hooch had two wines, three Sherries, and two Firewhiskeys. And by the looks of things, the flying instructor was snockered.

However, it was very clear that Bellatrix was also feeling rather warm from all the alcohol. Hermione had by now become accustomed to the warm hand on her thigh, but a shiver would still run through her whenever the professor ran her hand up and down said thigh.

Hermione had also had a little to drink. Nursing her second glass of sweet, elvish wine, her skin began to feel warmer than habitual. And the higher Bellatrix's hand went, the more she burned low in her stomach and on her cheeks. Finishing her second glass, Bellatrix moved to refill it when the bottle magically lifted away from her outstretched hand.

"I think Miss Granger has had quite enough to drink, Bellatrix," McGonagall reprimanded, frowning at the dark-haired professor.

Bella huffed impetuously and slumped in her chair, arms folded. "No fun…"

Shaking her head at Bellatrix's immaturity, McGonagall rose from her seat. "As it is the wee hours of the morning and I do not wish my fellow colleagues to set any worse examples of behavior than they already have, I say it is time for bed. Happy Christmas, everyone, and do not forget – nine in the morning sharp!" With a wave of her wand, the candles began to dim and everyone made their way to the grand staircase and off to their dormitories or the Professors' Wing.

Hermione turned to wish Bellatrix a good night but found the seat beside her empty. Disappointment stabbed at her heart and a bitter taste filled her mouth.

"A problem, Miss Granger?" McGonagall inquired as she and Madam Pomfrey aided Madam Hooch to her feet and steadied her.

"Are you feeling alright, dear? Elvish wine can be rather strong," Pomfrey asked sweetly.

"Yeah, no shit!"

"Rolanda, hold your tongue!" McGonagall snapped at the inebriated professor.

"No, I'm fine, really. Goodnight, Professors." Waving at the three of them, she left the Great Hall. Once climbing the stairs, her fake smile cracked and melted into the frown she felt deep inside. _Bellatrix is just a bloody tease… _

Muttering profanity about her crush as she made her way to her dormitory alone, Hermione did not see the shadow lurking behind one of the statues until a hand shot out and pulled her into the darkness.

"Hey, wha–"

"Shush, pet," hot breath breathed in her ear. Hermione could smell the distinct scent of alcohol on the person's breath and the unique perfume worn by only one other person.

"Bella-"

"Shh! Do you want them to hear you and come snooping?"

"But… you left…"

"Well, I couldn't very well leave the hall _with _you, now could I, pet? Minerva's been giving me looks all night; I couldn't rouse her suspicions more!" Bellatrix hissed. Their bodies pressed close together in the little space behind the statue and Bella had to fight hard to keep her mind focused on staying quiet. So close, she could smell the wine from the young witch and the scent of her soap. It clouded her mind even more effectively than the alcohol she consumed.

Hermione felt the response to Bellatrix's proximity deep inside her. Her body ached and her hands itched to grab hold of the woman's waist. But she resisted. There were questions that needed to be answered first.

"Bellatrix, tonight, you kept… touching me and looking at me. Does this mean… do you, um…" It was far more difficult to get the words out than she had anticipated. She felt Bella's lips ghost over her ear and her mind went blissfully blank.

"Hermione… you look… and the way you laugh and smile… I feel… I want you; I know…" With each attempted sentence, Bellatrix's hands ran over Hermione's body. One hand ran through her soft brown hair as the other ran over her slim waist and gripped her hip. Frustrated with her inability to speak like a human being, Bellatrix did the one thing she thought might convince the young woman that she _did _want to give them a shot.

Bellatrix kissed the girl firmly and pulled her closer. The kiss was hot and passionate and it indeed conveyed everything that words could not. Hermione wrapped her arms around Bella's neck and felt her back thump against the brick wall. She moaned as Bellatrix pressed her front against Hermione's – she could feel her arousal coiling inside her like a snake made entirely of lust. Her heart screamed in joy. She tangled her fingers in the beautiful mass of raven curls. Her nails scratched Bella's scalp and she felt rather than heard the woman moan into her mouth.

Bellatrix's hand in Hermione's hair jerked to the side, pulling the girl's head with it and thus exposing a soft, creamy neck just waiting to be devoured. Hermione's gasp of surprise and pleasure spiked the fire already burning in her loins as the professor proceeded the kiss, lick, nip, and suck on the skin before her.

Hermione's knees weakened as Bellatrix attacked her neck. She hissed as the woman bit and sucked rather hard on one spot and she was sure she would have a love-bite there next time she looked in the mirror. Fisting her hands in the dark curls, she forcefully pulled to woman's head back up so she could recapture those delicious crimson lips with her own.

Bellatrix groaned at the feeling of Hermione forcefully pulling her by the hair. _MERLIN this girl will be fun in bed! _Taking the girl's bottom lip between her teeth, she bit down hard enough to pull a squeak from her, then sucked and licked it better. She flicked her tongue over Hermione's top, then bottom lip, seeking entrance to that hot, wet mouth that tasted like the most intoxicating wine Bella had ever experienced.

Her entrance was quickly granted, and she felt the girl's knees begin to give out as she sucked her tongue into her mouth. Pinning the girl tighter between the wall and herself, Bellatrix moved her hands to grip the girl's hips to keep her steady. She felt soft, shaky hands grip and pull at the sides of her corset. Beneath her own hands, Hermione's shirt was pushed up and she felt the smooth, young skin of her abdomen. Merlin, she was intoxicating! Bella dug her nails into the soft skin of the girl's sides and felt the young body jerk into her touch and she moaned loudly into Bella's awaiting mouth.

_Shit, pet, someone will hear you! _

_Fuck them! Or her…_

_Morgana help us if we're caught. Peeves could come round any second-_

_PEEVES! _

As if her thoughts had materialized themselves, both witches jumped apart at a loud sound from down the hall. But, thankfully, it was not Peeves.

"Honestly, Rolanda, I don't know what possessed you to engage in a drinking competition with BELLATRIX of all people! That woman drinks too much as it is… you really thought you could match her?"

"Minnie, you worry too much! It was fun! I even managed to get dear old Bellatrix to loosen up and laugh some, didya see?" The slurred voice of Madam Hooch drifted towards them, along with the crisp, annoyed tenors of McGonagall.

"Yes, Rolanda, I saw; we all had fun."

"Really, Min, it was all in good fun! Rolly meant no harm, and what with all of us finally being able to breathe for a night, it felt nice to let loose!" the softer voice of Madam Pomfrey joined in.

"I know, Poppy, dear!" Perhaps it was the wine and Bella's kissing that made her hear things, but Hermione swore she heard an affectionate tone slip from McGonagall's lips as she spoke to the Matron. Her voice was soft and feminine as she spoke her name and it held none of the impatience she had when speaking to Madam Hooch. "Let's just get her to bed, so _we _can get to bed."

"Let's waste no time, then," Pomfrey chuckled.

Hermione listened wide eyed as the three older witches passed by their hideaway without a second glance. Upon seeing the young woman's shocked expression, Bellatrix smirked and stifled a snort of laughter.

Once the witches' footsteps could no longer be heard, Bella let out a breath. "Come on, pet, we're a little too drunk and a little too out in the open to do this here and now." She kissed the tip of Hermione's nose and poked her head out into the corridor. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she pulled Hermione out of the shadows and they walked to the Gryffindor dormitory hand in hand.

"So, um… Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, they sounded a little…"

"Close?" Bella smirked. "They are. They hide it well, but whenever I've been around them while they're comfortable, they're really sweet."

"How long?" Hermione asked, intrigued. There was so much about the professors and their lives that she couldn't even guess at!

"Well, Minerva's husband died not long after they were married, so she's spent most of her life as a widow. I don't know about her taking on anyone else before Poppy, but I found out about them the first year I took the position. I foolishly walked into Poppy's office unannounced seeking a cure for a hangover when I caught Minerva pinning Poppy down on the desk. Since then, they've kept doors locked, and I came up with my own cure."

"It's wonderful for them!"

Bellatrix nodded in agreement and pulled the witch closer against her side and wrapped her arm around her slim waist. They made their way up to Gryffindor Tower in companionable silence, just enjoying the feel of the other's warmth. Just out of view of the Fat Lady, Bellatrix pulled the young witch into an embrace and gave her one last kiss.

"Goodnight, Bella. Sweet dreams."

"They definitely will be," the professor answered with a wink that made Hermione's insides quiver. Bellatrix muttered the password to the portrait and the painting swung forward to reveal the entrance to the red and gold dormitory.

With one last look at the dark witch, Hermione stepped through the portrait hole and slowly climbed up to bed.


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione awoke with a start, startled by a persistent knocking on her bedroom door.

"Hermione, wake up! Everyone got presents!" Lavender yelled from the other side of the barrier. For as grown up as they all were in the face of danger, it seemed nothing could crush the childlike spirit that rose in everyone on Christmas morning.

Leaping out of bed and grabbing her robe and slippers, Hermione threw open her door and followed Lav down the stairs to the common room. In the corner by the roaring hearth fire, their tree stood decorated with shining enchanted red and gold ornaments. Real fairies twinkled their lights on the evergreen branches and the smell of pine and hot chocolate wafted through the air and tickled Hermione's senses. It seemed Professor McGonagall wanted them to feel spoiled this morning, for a plate of steaming mugs, complete with mini marshmallows, sat patiently on a study table, just waiting for the students to arrive. The two girls each took a mug and joined the other Gryffindors already crowded around the tree.

The impatient first years sat on the rug, vibrating with excitement. It was amazing the transformation in them – only two days without the Death Eaters roaming the halls, and everyone felt the weight lifting from them, if only temporarily.

Finally, the rest of the students gathered around, and Seamus played the role of Father Christmas and passed around the gifts to each of the students.

The children all ripped open their presents and immediately began enjoying them. Many of them were sweets – some Hermione recognized as merchandise from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – others were clothes, books, toys, letters from family and friends.

Hermione's own pile of gifts was rather larger than she expected. A new jumper from Mrs. Weasley – a deep crimson with golden cuffs and stars – her favorite chocolates from Ginny, a small bottle of Love Potion and assorted Wheezes from the twins – _I won't be needing this potion this year, thank you, boys! – _a rock cake from Hagrid, another book on rare magical plants and their properties from Neville, and each of them received a charmed snow-globe from Professor McGonagall. Hermione's had an owl that flew around inside the globe when she shook it.

As she expected, there was nothing from the boys. She wanted to get them each something, but had no idea where to send it. In any case, the post would be too dangerous… Hermione also noted that there was nothing from Luna. _She's probably far too busy with her father and _The Quibbler_ or some nonsensical creature that hibernates in their garden. _

"Here you are, Hermione, last one's for you," Seamus said, passing her a beautifully wrapped package. The paper was made of shiny wrapping that changed colours in the light. One moment, Hermione thought for sure that the package was black, but then turned it around in search of a tag, and it turned into a deep eggplant hue. The box itself was rather small, the size of her palm at most.

"Any idea who it's from?" she asked, hesitant to rip the beautiful paper.

"There was no name, just a letter. _B." _

A flutter passed through Hermione's chest and she beamed. _Bellatrix. _

"So you know, then?" Lavender asked, peering curiously at the package.

"Yes, uh, it's from a witch I met on holiday in London. Beatrice." The lie came unnaturally easy and it made Hermione wonder when she had started being a decent liar. _I suppose it comes with having far too many secrets, _she thought bitterly.

Thankfully, the clock on the wall began to chime before they could ask any more questions. Half past eight. "Come on, everyone. Professor McGonagall said we were not to be late for breakfast. Everyone get dressed and head down to the Great Hall," Hermione said in her Head Girl voice. There were a few complaints from the younger students as they gathered their new belongings, but a withering glare from the seventh year had them all scampering up the stone stairs in a hurry.

Back in her room, Hermione sat on her bed fully dressed – the love-bites expertly hidden beneath glamour – and ready for the day with the package from Bellatrix on her lap. Carefully, she lifted one edge of the paper and then another, peeling back the wrapping without ripping it and folded it neatly on the bed beside her. It was a plain black box. She lifted the lid and gasped. Inside, nestled in a plush pillow of black velvet, was a small silver heart shaped locket. Slowly, she lifted the pendant from its safe little nest. Attached to it was a long silver and delicate-looking chain. Though it looked as though the chain would snap at the slightest tension, she was sure it was Goblin made and therefore would withstand just about anything. _And probably cost about as much as my parent's house… _

She looked for a way to open the locket manually, but she found no seam. _Bella is a Pure-blood, there's probably a trick to it. _Wand in hand, she waved it over the locket, muttering little incantations. Nothing. She tapped the tip to the silver heart. _Alohamora? _A small _click _sounded and the locket popped open.

The inside the locket on one side, a small emerald in the shape of a heart hovered, held in place by beautiful magic. On the other side, there were a few words masterfully engraved into the silver. _Keep my heart safe. _

Hermione felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes, but she smiled more brightly than any diamond in the world. She felt warm all over and her heart swelled. Closing the locket, she slipped the chain around her neck and let the pendant fall into place beneath her shirt. It hung safely just above the valley between her breasts.

Pressing her palm over it protectively, Hermione's eyes glanced across her room to her alarm clock. Eight minutes to nine. _BUGGER! Nearly late again!_

* * *

Hermione arrived with three minutes to spare, much to her relief, McGonagall's annoyance, and Bella's amusement.

The girl took her seat – which was, coincidentally, beside Bellatrix again – and wished them all a Happy Christmas.

Nonchalantly, Bellatrix slid her hand over the girl's thigh and gave a small squeeze. A soft hand overlapped hers and Hermione ran her thumb over Bella's knuckles before pulling back.

With a clap from the Head of Gryffindor, the magnificent breakfast appeared on the table. French toast and boats of syrup, bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, jams and jellies, fruits and sweet cream, pastries, and pitchers of drinks. It was not long before everyone was digging in and helping themselves to the buffet.

On the other side of the table, Pomfrey coaxed Hooch to nibble on pieces of buttered toast and sip from a cool glass of water.

"What's the matter, Rolly? Rough night?" Bellatrix asked the woman in an obnoxiously loud voice.

The response was a groan and a single raised finger in the air, to which Bella cackled and clapped, having a jolly good time antagonising the hungover witch.

"Really, Bellatrix, must you?" McGonagall scolded.

"What? Not my fault the witch can't hold her drink!"

"Why not offer her some of your cure?" Hermione whispered from the corner of her mouth.

The dark witch smirked and gave a quick wink. "Where's the fun in that?"

Once everyone had had their fill, Professor McGonagall sent the students off to enjoy the day. With a wave of her wand, the dishes and leftovers disappeared. Apparently, the house-elves have their own Christmas celebration, so it was up to the professor to see to the tidiness of the hall this day.

"I will expect you at precisely a quarter to two, Granger. Any later and you'll be walking," Bellatrix said as she stood from the table, in a distant and professional tone.

"Expect her? Bellatrix, what plans have you made with my student?" McGonagall's face pinched in suspicion as she stared down the dark witch.

"Keep your claws in, Minerva! Dora and Remus invited the girl over for Christmas dinner and I – being the most wonderful and responsible aunt and professor – am to escort her via Floo Network. Nothing to get all in a tizzy about."

It was clear the Head of Gryffindor did not fully approve, but, seeing as Hermione was of age and she could make no real argument as to why the girl could not spend the evening with two Order members, McGonagall wished them both a good evening and sipped her tea while she chatted with Pomfrey and Sprout – Hooch hardly being a participant in the conversation since her head was hiding beneath her arms now that all the children had gone.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the door as she stood in the corridor of the Professor's Wing. The door flew open and she gasped out an embarrassing _yelp _of shock when a surprisingly strong hand hauled her through the open doorway and into the sitting room beyond.

"FINALLY!" Bella groaned exasperatedly as she slammed the door shut behind the young witch.

"What? It's quarter to two like you asked," Hermione said confused. _Did I miss something? _

"Yeah, that's what I said in front of _her! _I expected you to ignore me and come straight over."

"Well, I'm no mind reader!" Hermione shook her head but couldn't suppress the smile. Yes, this was Bellatrix through and through.

"I'll have to fix that then." Bella's voice dropped to a husky tone and she wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist. "I see you got my gift," she said softly as her lips brushed over the delicate chain around the girl's slim neck.

"I did," the brunette answered, trying to keep her voice from cracking with emotion. "And I love it; it's beautiful, thank you."

"I'm glad you like it." The relief was evident in Bella's voice; she had been worried the gift would be too much too soon, but she wanted to give the girl something meaningful. Words could never express what actions could, and she needed Hermione to know just how into this Bellatrix had committed herself already. This was no fling – she didn't have flings. This was going to be a deep, heartfelt, and passionate relationship – not that she had those either… but time would help her figure out how to deal.

"I also brought something for you," the girl in her arms said shyly, holding up a small bag dangling from her hand.

"A present for me!" The woman bounced back, a sparkle lighting her expressive dark eyes.

"Yes, something for you! And something for Dora, Remus, and the baby."

"Awe, what a proper little guessed," the witch teased as she pulled Hermione to the couch.

"Do you want it now or wait to open it with the others?"

"Blast! That means it's something appropriate, isn't it?"

"Of course! What were you expecting?"

"Sexy knickers, perhaps…"

"Bella!" Hermione gasped, shocked and torn between feeling scandalised and embarrassed… and a little excited, if she was being honest.

The dark witch giggled. It was just too easy to make the girl blush! She pressed a loud kiss to the girl's crimson cheek and laughed all the more to see the brunette fighting to hide her smile. The fight was futile. Bellatrix had new ways of getting her way with the girl. Silly kisses turned the playful frowns into smiles, then into a fit of giggles as the two women rolled on the couch. Somehow, the playful little attack heated and morphed from an innocent game to full snogging while hands roamed and Hermione wrapped her arms securely around the woman's waist as the raven-haired witch pinned her down.

Bellatrix's knees held Hermione on either side of her hips, digging into the softness of her sides.

Heat and arousal pooled between Hermione's legs, making her deliciously uncomfortable. She knew what she'd find if she slipped a finger down there; no one else but Bellatrix had ever made her feel so strongly.

A need for friction overtook the young woman and her hips bucked, surging forward, grinding against Bella's pelvis.

An animalistic growl, moan, groan – whatever the sound that escaped Bella's throat – it made Hermione bolder. Her hands roamed over Bella's hips and downwards to pass over the woman's bottom. Through the woman's dress, she squeezed and swallowed the moan that passed between the blood red lips. Pulling the woman further down on top of her, Bellatrix ground herself on Hermione, just as desirous for more friction as her little witch.

One perfectly manicured hand slipped beneath Hermione's dress shirt and sharp nails raked over the perfect skin of her abdomen. The girl hissed. It hurt but, Merlin, she wanted more!

Then both women let out shrieks and _ooffs _and _ows _as they both tumbled from the couch and landed on the hardwood floor.

"Fuck," Bella grunted, blowing a stray curl from her face as she stared up at the ceiling.

Beside her, Hermione rubbed the back of her head and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Eventually, both women had tears streaming from their eyes as they were overtaken by a fit of laughter.

Hermione finally ran out of breath, a stitch forming in her side. Pushing the hair from her face, she sat up and looked over at Bellatrix. The woman's cheeks were adorably pink and Hermione wiped away a stray tear that had escaped during their hysterics as she shuffled to crawl back onto the couch.

"I guess that's what we get for sneaking in a make-out session before heading to Dora's," Hermione said and righted her clothes. "Did you still want your gift?"

"You kidding? Come on come on, lemme see!"

Hermione dug into her small bag, her arm disappearing up to the elbow and she extracted a small parcel wrapped in simple silver paper. With a blush, she dropped it into Bella's waiting hands.

Bella's grin stretched her lips wide over brilliant white teeth. She expertly tore through the paper and her lips mouthed the words as she read the title of the novel. "_A Wrinkle in Time?" _

"I noticed it was missing from your collection. It was a favourite of mine when I was young," Hermione said sheepishly, her blush deepening as she pointed at the bookshelf. _Was I right to give her a Muggle classic? What if those on her shelf are the only ones she likes? What if she hates it? _

Her internal voices raced along with her worries and insecurities. _She's a Pure-blood… a Black… she could buy anything she could dream of! Why would she want a stupid little book? _

Suddenly a warm hand took hers and pulled her into strong arms that wrapped around her tightly. Against her shoulder, Bellatrix smiled and buried her face into the crook of Hermione's neck.

"Do – do you like it?"

"Hermione, love, it's wonderful." Bella pressed a kiss to the young woman's neck and pulled back. "Thank you." She would definitely be reading this soon. _Something important from Hermione's past… _Bella smiled_. _"Come, we should get to Dora's."


	26. Chapter 26

**A.N. This story is now officially rated M. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! **

Hermione stumbled from the fireplace, covered in chimney soot and sneezing madly. _Merlin, that was worse than usual. _

Shuffling to the side, she made way for Bellatrix, who appeared in a _woosh _of roaring green flames.

Bella stepped gracefully from the Floo and indignantly brushed herself off. "DORA!"

Now mostly soot-free, Hermione took in the new surroundings. They had emerged into a small, cramped sitting room. Comfortable looking furniture faced the fire-place and a threadbare rug covered the floor beneath their feet. Several lamps lit the small room but plunged the far corners into shadow. A few picture frames hung on the walls and stood on a few side tables. Hermione recognized one of Remus and Dora's wedding, Dora graduating Auror training, the Order of the Phoenix from Christmas of her fifth year and one of the original Order, of Bella and a young Dora sitting on her lap, and three of the four marauders – Pettigrew's picture had decidedly been cut out.

There were a few more, but one stood out among the rest – a lonely, dusty frame sat in a back corner, hiding in the deepest shadows. Hermione stepped over and picked it up, careful to disturb as little of the dust as possible. A wedding day. The two newlyweds smiled and laughed at the camera and then looked happily at each other. The photograph appeared to be at least twenty years old depicting a man she didn't recognize and a beautiful young woman with long, dark curls and even darker, happy eyes. _Andromeda. _

"I gave this one to her when she started asking me questions about her parents. I'm surprised she kept it. She isn't exactly _fond _of who her mother became," Bella commented softly behind her.

Hermione replaced the frame. She found it horribly heartbreaking. She missed her parents terribly, but she still had wonderful memories of them. Harry lost his parents young, but he knew that they died for him – that they _loved _him. But Dora… her father died before he had the chance to meet her. Killed by her mother. And her own mother barely got to hold her when she was born and after then…

Heavy footsteps sounded from the adjoining room.

"OW! Blasted, bloody thing!" Dora cussed as she entered the sitting room. "I really hate that bookshelf in the hall – I always run into it!" Face widening into a smile and hair a lovely holy green, Dora greeted Hermione with a large, enthusiastic bear hug and nearly toppled a lamp in the process. It was rather difficult to wrap her arms around the woman; her stomach stuck far enough out that the warm greeting turned into a side-hug. "And Aunt Bella. Get this hug over with and it won't have to happen again until you leave." The two women put up a fuss, but the young Gryffindor could see the love between niece and aunt.

"Bellatrix, it's nice to see you again. Happy Christmas," Remus greeted politely and shook the dark witch's hand.

"No need to lie, puppy, I know I'm not your favourite. So I brought this little treat to distract you." Bellatrix pushed Hermione playfully forward and the middle-aged marauder and she shared a hug.

"And I brought wine!" Hermione said and pulled a bottle from the depths of her little bag.

"I've said it before – you certainly _are _the brightest witch of your age!" Remus laughed and accepted the bottle.

"Well, that's great for you lot! Baby and I won't be enjoying any." Dora frowned, and Hermione was shocked at how much she resembled her aunt as she pouted.

The young witch chuckled. "Don't pout! I have something for you, too!"

"NOOO! Really? Hermione, you're just the best!" Dora's hair turned a bright shade of cotton-candy pink as she snatched the large bag of Honeyduke's sweets from the witch's hand and popped a fruit-flavored gummy mouse into her mouth. It was known far and wide that the woman had an insatiable sweet tooth. _It seems the pregnancy hasn't changed that._

Bellatrix tried in vain to hide her smile as she watched the interaction between Hermione and her family play out. Hermione fit so perfectly with her family. Her small, quirky, possibly slightly dysfunctional family. She hadn't been lying when she said Dora adored Hermione. The girl was absolutely brilliant, and witty, and stunning, and thoughtful, and kind, and –

"Bellatrix?"

"Hm?" Snatched from her thoughtful daze, Bellatrix's gaze focused back on the three people all watching her with confused stares. "Go on, I'll catch up." Dora, accustomed to Bella's oddities, pulled her husband to the kitchen where she would be able to snack until dinner. Hermione, however, took a step back towards Bella, her warm brown eyes full of concern.

Bella smiled sweetly and ran a hand through soft, brown hair. "I'm fine, pet, just lost in thought."

"What about?"

"You." Bella smiled and stepped forward, pressing their bodies together, one arm snaking around her waist while the other took hold of her chin. She pulled the girl's lips against her own in a tender kiss.

"Mmmm, Bella," Hermione sighed against full red lips.

"Come on, pet, before Dora gets impatient and comes snooping."

* * *

"I swear! It's practically a Christmas tradition for Hooch to challenge Aunt Bella to a drinking match!"

The four of them sat seated around the dinner table; dirty dinner dishes were long forgotten over in the sink, Christmas pudding had been passed around to everyone and wine was flowing heavily between three of them.

Hermione listened with rapt attention as Dora recounted all her stories of living in the castle with Bellatrix. For their first few years together, Bellatrix and Dora had shared the professor's quarters. When Dora turned eleven and received her Hogwarts letter, McGonagall found them a little place in Hogsmeade. At first, Bella had refused to leave, but after heavy persuasion from the staff – namely Dumbledore, insisting that a young girl should not spend her entire life in a school – she finally acquiesced. When Dora moved out to rent a place closer to the Ministry for her Auror training, Bellatrix moved back into the castle. But she still owned the little cottage in Hogsmeade.

The first ten years of Dora's life held some amazing stories. If there was ever a secret running through the walls, Dora had her ear to it. She had become a master at evading Filch and knew of nearly all the secret passages. Thanks to Harry and the Marauders' Map, however, Hermione knew more. She supposed she also had Remus to thank for that. Dora sulked when she discovered the two groups of friends had learned more way to sneak in, out, and around the castle than she had in her whole life.

Nevertheless, during her occasional stalking of the halls after hours, Dumbledore would discover the young Dora girl sneaking around. Instead of turning her back to bed or ratting her out to an irate aunt, he would walk with her and offer her some of the sweets he kept in his pockets. Then, in the morning, she would find herself back in her bed with dirty feet and no memory of how she got there.

"You'd think by now she would have figured it out," Hermione laughed and wiped a tear away after hearing the story.

"Oh, some people never learn, pet," Bellatrix swirled the dark red wine around in her glass and took and small sip.

The small group sat in silence for several moments, each caught in their own thoughts. It was Remus who finally disturbed the quiet. "Hermione, I'm sorry to have to ask this – again – but, what _are _you all up to? I'm sure Harry has told you somehow that I found them out in Grimwald Place. He and Ron were definitely hiding something. If you could tell us anything _– anything_ at all – we could help you!"

Hermione sighed and took a drink from her glass. The alcohol had given her cheeks a lovely pink glow, but her mind was still sharp if slightly delayed. "Remus, we've told you. This was left to us by Dumbledore. If he had wanted others to know, he would have made it public knowledge. As it is, it's better if our actions and whereabouts stay secret – even from friends. You cannot deny this is a smart and cautious tactic. I will, however, tell you one thing, but you _absolutely cannot tell anyone!" _

"Hermione," Bella said in a warning tone.

"They were hiding Draco. He came to us over the summer saying he had some information for us and that he was leaving the Death Eaters. The Weasleys found out about his arrival just before the wedding and disguised him. He's been traveling with Harry and Ron since then. That's probably why the boys were acting so suspicious. They didn't want you to see him just yet. They probably thought you'd hex his hair off or something."

"What! Draco Malfoy? Hermione, you can't be serious! He's a – he ki –" Remus sputtered as Dora stared wide-eyed at the young witch. Her hair had gone from its nice and cheery pink to a stark white.

"You see! This is why we've told no one else. Not only are you coming to false conclusions, but you are assuming that _we _didn't think this through because you still see us as CHILDREN!" Hermione's voice rose steadily louder as she spoke. _How dare he! Everyone always sees us as students – when will they realise, we're no longer children, that innocence was stolen from us ages ago. We are the _only ones _who can defeat Voldemort and they refuse to see it! _"We listened to Draco. He gave us valuable information – and before you ask, no, I cannot tell you. He's changed alliances and so has his mother. I only told you so that if you happen to run across them, you won't kill them."

Remus leaned back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He sat in brooding silence as he thought about what Hermione had just told them. She recalled how long it had taken the Weasleys to come around to the idea. Remus's reaction was to be expected, but now that Hermione and the young Malfoy had formed a tentative friendship – dare she call it that? – it hurt and frustrated her to see those she respected and trusted see him in the same light as his father.

Beside her husband, Dora swallowed. "'Mione, you're sure about him?"

"Absolutely," she responded without hesitation. It was almost surprising how much her relationship with Draco had grown. Trust had been built up so strongly and so quickly, Hermione felt no hesitation and no worry in regards to the young Malfoy. Now, his presence with her two best friends reassured her. She could trust him to keep a level head in a crisis. He'd proven his worth and loyalty tenfold.

Dora placed a hand on Remus's arm. Slowly, her hair turned from white to magenta. "Trust Hermione, darling. Even if you don't trust the Malfoys, at least trust that Hermione, Harry, and Ron know what they're doing."

Remus's face remained dark, but he relented and agreed to keep this. He also stopped asking for more of their secrets.

Bella slipped her hand over the young witch's thigh and gave it a small squeeze. "Hermione, didn't you have a gift for the baby as well?" she asked, ending the unpleasant conversation.

The other two women eagerly accepted the change of topic, but Remus struggled to lift the corners of his mouth into a small smile. Reaching into her bag, Hermione pulled out a small stuffed pig with a large red ribbon tied as a collar.

"It's adorable!" Dora laughed as she patted the plush animal and held it against her chest. "But why a pig?"

"Because Ginny and I can't help but laugh when you morph your nose into the snout of a pig – we think the baby will love it, too!"

"I just hope that his nursery rhymes don't include the Big Bad Wolf. He might worry Daddy might eat his little piggy."

"Always the joker, Bellatrix." Remus rolled his eyes.

"Keeps you on your toes, puppy. Can't let your life get boring, now can I?"

Remus snorted and drank deeply from his glass and Hermione suspected that many more glasses would be filled before the night was through. And she hoped that the mood would lighten accordingly.

Soon, another bottle was finished between the three of them and Hermione and Remus laughed until tears fell onto the table top as Bellatrix regaled them with Dora's most famous klutzy moments.

"So Pomfrey actually had a bed reserved for you in the Hospital Wing? I thought she was just joking with Harry when she said that!"

Bellatrix chuckled as Dora's face turned an even darker shade of red and she attempted to hide further down in her seat. Her pregnant belly, however, made it difficult. "Dora holds the record for the most time spent in the Hospital Wing; and the record of landing the most students in the hospital at a time. In her fourth year, Dora was very ambitious."

"What did you do?!" Hermione gasped, wide-eyed.

"Nothing! Nothing on purpose…"

"She accidentally knocked over a few shelves containing class ingredients during Potions. Everything smashed – such a mess! Some students were slightly poisoned, others had mild burns, and some slipped in frog juice. Poppy fixed everyone up, obviously, but Dumbledore and I must have received two dozen howlers between us. Soon after, Horace retired and strict control of potion ingredients was enforced. Sivvy's job was a lot more difficult than you think."

"Okay, okay, I think it's time for _Auntie Bella_ to leave! These stories… Merlin, my child really must have Gryffindor courage to pick me as his mother."

"You will be a wonderful mother, Dora!" Hermione reassured her sweetly.

"Indeed you will be, love," Remus agreed, kissing the top of her head.

"And you'll be a wonderful father."

"PET! Get your coat; I do not want to lose my dinner over all this mushy shite."

Rolling their eyes, the couple walked Bella and Hermione to the Floo. They all shared hugs and Bella disappeared, engulfed in green flames.

"Hermione! Bring these with you. The blue one is yours and the silver is for Aunt Bella. She hates opening presents in front of people and having to pretend to like them, so just pass it along."

Hermione accepted both packages from Dora and stepped into the fireplace. Smiling and waving, her vision turned green as she swirled through the Floo. All too suddenly, she stumbled from Bellatrix's hearth utterly disoriented. _Floo and alcohol – not a good mix!_

And just as suddenly, her arms were emptied and Hermione's lips were captured by full, red, delicious ones. Her dizziness was immediately replaced by another feeling, and she enjoyed this feeling much more – like being on a cloud.

"You were a treat tonight, pet," a low seductive voice whispered in her ear. "I told you they would love having you."

Even the woman's voice was enough to send uncontrollable shivers down Hermione's spine, her insides twisting in lust. "And you?"

"And me? Did I love having you there?"

Swallowing, Hermione nodded.

A soft chuckle sounded through Bella's chest and soft fingers played with a strand of brown hair against the young witch's cheek. "Yes, I loved having you there. You were an absolute delight. But… I still could not wait to get you out back here."

"Why?" It was a foolish question, truly, but Hermione felt her hands begin to shake and her skin begin to burn. Her sweet innocent soul sought for more time.

"So many questions! Why don't I show you, pet? Words, I find, are useless in certain situations."

The young witch gasped as her lips were captured in a searing kiss. She felt her feet lift off the ground and she instinctively wrapped her legs around Bella's waist as her arms circled around her shoulders and held tightly.

For a moment, she wondered how Bellatrix could be so strong, but soon found she didn't care as a warm tongue licked over her bottom lip.

Before she could allow the muscle into her mouth, she felt her professor's hot, wet mouth rain down kisses along her jaw and neck and she gasped when sharp teeth nipped her sensitive skin and a quick tongue tasted her heated flesh.

Hermione felt Bella walk through the room, but she really couldn't care where they were headed. With every step, she felt herself brush more against the dark witch and their bodies shifted together so wonderfully she felt her mind might explode.

Suddenly, Hermione fell backward, let go from Bella's embrace. She fell through the air and cried out in shock – and relief – when she hit the softness of a bed instead of the hard, cold floor. And then Bellatrix was on her once more.

Soon, Hermione's top became a casualty of war wrought between the two women. She arched her back into Bella's kisses along her torso and moaned into the dark bedroom as sneaky fingers teased just beneath the waistband of her pants.

Shaky hands tore at the strings of Bellatrix's corset and the raven-haired woman chuckled. With an expert flick of her wrist, Bella magically untied the complicated series of knots and Hermione threw the unwanted garment away, where it joined her long-forgotten shirt on the ground.

Hermione's hands spread themselves over the newly released body. She found it odd to feel the softness of a woman instead of the roughness of the corset. Through the black dress, Hermione found Bella's breasts. For a panicked moment, Hermione couldn't imagine what to do. But then she felt Bella's nails rake down her sides and animal instinct took over. She palmed the cloth-covered mounds and massaged them eagerly.

Above the young witch, Bellatrix moaned in surprise and gripped the girl's hips so tightly her nails may have drawn blood. Lifting herself away, Bellatrix grinned mischievously at the young woman's pout at having lost her newfound playthings. All while watching the young witch, Bellatrix slowly pulled her dress above her head and discarded it to the side of the bed. There she sat in the darkness atop Hermione, clad in only in black undergarments and her high black, high-heeled boots.

Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the woman above her. She may be more advanced in years, but Hermione could see no trace of age on the perfect body bare to her eyes. The breasts seemed just as perky as a woman's in her twenties and her skin was devoid of any wrinkle.

Smiling at Hermione's speechlessness, Bella picked up one soft hand and encouragingly pressed it to her chest. _I guess this old lady's still got it! _She thought to herself smugly.

It did not take long for the rest of the clothes to disappear as the two lovers battled on the comforter of Bella's bed.

Pressing a knee up between the brunette's legs, Bella's arousal spiked exponentially as she felt Hermione grind her wetness on her leg. She soon removed her leg – much to the young woman's voiced dismay – and replaced it with a thumb to a very sensitive clit.

"Oh, God!"

"'Goddess' is more fitting, I think, but I won't be picky," Bellatrix teased as she pleasured her young lover's sex organ. With a single finger, she teased the girl's slick opening, testing the waters before taking the plunge. "Are you sure?"

Hermione, so startled was she by the question, opened her eyes and looked down to where Bella was kneeling between her parted legs. For a moment, she lay there completely entranced by the picture; she forgot the woman had asked for permission.

Taking a deep breath and giving the professor a tentative smile and nod, Hermione laid her head back down. _This is it, _she thought, _I'll no longer be a virgin. _There was no denying the newfound chemistry between them – the invisible strings that tugged them closer and closer together over the past few months. Though this was extremely new to the both of them, Hermione felt no pang of regret in her heart when she thought of what Bellatrix was about to do. _I trust her, I like her… might I even?... _

She gasped as she felt, for the first time, penetration inside her. Bella started off with a single finger, allowing the young woman to acclimate to the feeling before she added a second. Hermione groaned as the second digit entered her. It hurt for a single moment, she supposed, but Bellatrix brilliantly distracted her by toying with the swollen bundle of nerves. The older woman placed hot, open-mouthed kisses all along Hermione's lower body, tasting salt. She soon discovered the young woman's hips were extremely sensitive – she lurched clear off the surface of the bed each time Bella raked her teeth over her protruding hip bones.

Hermione moaned louder and louder as her sweat-soaked skin spiked in temperature and she felt her walls begin to constrict around Bella's long fingers. She cried out as spasms wracked through her body and her heartbeat erratically.

Bellatrix did not remove her fingers until the witch laid spent over the covers; her eyes heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. After licking the girl's sweet juices from her hand, Bella crawled up and took her lover in her arms. "How was that?" she asked softly, pressing a light peck to Hermione's sweat-dampened scalp.

"Whoa," Hermione sighed tiredly against Bella's neck. The dark witch laughed at the girl's unabashed honesty and sweetly kissed her forehead again. "That was… it was… just whoa."

"So you said, dearie."

For a few moments, the two laid silently in each other's arms while Hermione recuperated.

_I guess it's my turn now… _the thought of touching Bellatrix, in the same way, thrilled her as much as it frightened her.

Nervously, she rolled on top of Bella and began kissing delicious kiss-swollen lips. Her hands roamed down to Bella's breasts, her waist – those eager, inexperienced hands delicately felt the skin available beneath her.

Bella's soft moans filled the room as Hermione explored her body. She took her time, savoring every sound the older woman made, learning all the while.

It warmed Bella's heart at how clumsy and awkward the little witch started off, but with more and more encouragement, Hermione's movements became more practiced and confident. She felt her arousal pool and she jerked upwards when the girl gently sucked a taut nipple into her mouth. She ran over hands over the smooth skin above her, marveling at the youth and elasticity of the young woman's lithe form.

Though Bella knew she aged incredibly well, given her forty years, she suddenly felt self-conscious in a way she had never felt before.

A harsh gasp was ripped from her lungs and shattered her thoughts as Bellatrix felt two fingers plunge deep into her core without hesitation. Together, the two soon found a steady rhythm, and with her second hand, Hermione rubbed slow, smooth circles around Bella's aroused clit.

With few suggestions and directions for the young woman, Bellatrix's frame soon shook with pleasure as steady fingers continued their work inside her.

Once the waves had passed and Bella's frantic heart began to relax, she pulled Hermione up and wrapped herself around her. "That was… rather well done," she admitted amidst pants.

"I'm a quick learner," the young woman smiled shyly against Bella's shoulder.

"That you are, my dear, sweet, little witch. Now let's get some sleep."

"Okay," Hermione muttered sleepily as they snuggled in under the incredibly soft sheets.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Night, Bella."


	27. Chapter 27

Hermione woke groggily; the thick fog of sleep still hung heavily in her body, clouding her mind and vision. She blinked several times and looked around the dark bedroom. An elegantly carved ebony wardrobe stood against one wall, a matching vanity against the adjacent wall. The shades on the window were drawn tight and no light penetrated – for all she knew, it could still be dark outside.

Shifting her stiff body, the young witch sighed contentedly and snuggled deeper into the magically downy sheets. _I don't think I ever want to leave this bed, _she thought as she held a feather-stuffed pillow to her naked chest. This decision was reinforced tenfold as a warm, soft body pressed exquisitely against her back and a strong arm wrapped around her middle, holding her tightly in an iron embrace.

"Mmmmm," she sighed and smiled, her body going lax against Bella's front.

"Comfortable?" Bella asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

"So comfortable!" she gushed as she snuggled deeper. "Your bed is magical."

"I'll take that as a compliment towards my abilities in said bed," the dark witch teased and chuckled deeply into the girl's ear. She pressed a light kiss to Hermione's bare shoulder and buried her face in soft and unruly brown waves.

Hermione's eyes suddenly went wide in embarrassment, her body tensed and she felt the blush as it crept over her skin. She felt Bella's laugh shake through both of them and before she registered the shift, she found herself staring up into deep, dark brown eyes and a beautiful face framed by sleep-mussed curls.

"Did you have fun?" Bella's grin was bright in the dimness of the bedroom.

"Yes, I did. You were quite wonderful." She fidgeted slightly beneath Bella's heated gaze, well aware of how much naked skin was pressed together. "Was it, ummm… okay for you?"

Bella laughed again and ran her fingers through silky brown hair. "You did well, my little witch. Given enough practice, I think you could become quite a talented lover."

"So it didn't bother you that I was… that I never… you know, before?"

A soft smile spread across red lips as the dark witch pressed a light kiss to a worried forehead. "I can tell you're blushing even in the dark," she whispered against the witch's skin. "I actually found your inexperience endearing, darling. It reassured me that you're not just cougar hunting; that there was more than just lust involved in last night."

"And you? Why me? I'm just a student; a Muggle-born; young and naïve…"

With a sigh, Bella settled down beside the young witch and considered her answers. She obviously found the witch attractive and her inexperienced nature was adorably sweet. But there were also parts of her that were definitely less innocent, and those spoke to the darkness in Bella's own heart. Shared trauma was a powerful connection, and the connection they shared was strong – loneliness and a deep longing for their families whole again. Things like blood purity meant nothing to her anymore – not since she was a young, stupid teenager. All people could love, all people could hate – be they pure, mud, or Muggle.

No, there was more to this. She trusted this young woman. And she trusted Bella. Hermione was bright, shiny, but also wise and serious. Despite her lack of years, Bellatrix could still see an age that went beyond years in the girl's soul that called to her own. Bellatrix cared for her – for her happiness and for her safety. She nearly killed the Carrows for her, for Merlin's sake!

"Because I like you," she answered simply. They were simple – childlike, even - but they were the most truthful words she could find. "I truly do, Hermione, and I promise I will prove that to you."

Still blushing furiously, a smile bloomed over Hermione's face and she burrowed into the older witch's embrace. The two shared a sweet kiss and Hermione's heart swelled. Here was the most intimidating professor in Britain – most likely the whole of Europe – here, cuddling with her after a night of tender love-making.

Hermione waited for the shame, the fear, the regret of doing what they did… but none came. She was happy being here in Bella's arms and nothing on this Earth or beyond could take that happiness away from her.

* * *

"Come now, try! You could nearly do it yesterday, what's changed?" Bella paced around Hermione impatiently. "By now I expected to be on to concealing specifics, not just blocking. Ready – now."

A week since Christmas. Every day since; Occlumency practice. As Hermione improved, Bellatrix demanded more and more from her performance. Apparently, she was not about to take it easy on her new lover. As she maneuvered around the young witch's barriers, Bellatrix chuckled to herself. _I suppose there's ever the more reason for her to master it now, unless she wants everyone to know what happens in our bed. _

"Oh, pet, you can do better than this. What's holding you back?" Retreating from the memory of the night in the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix turned a worried gaze to the young witch.

"Nothing," the brunette muttered, twisting her wand between her fingers, her eyes downcast and with brows furrowed.

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. Hermione was indeed horrible at keeping secrets – especially from authority and even more especially from Bella.

"Out with it."

Hermione's eyes roamed around the classroom, looking anywhere but on the dark orbs probing for information. The sunlight had long since disappeared outside and heavy snow-filled clouds hung low over the grounds. They were in for another blizzard soon.

"Hermione." Brown eyes met Bella's ones as the professor stepped closer. The soft, pleading tone of her voice felt slightly awkward in her mouth, but she used it with the same encouraging care she would when approaching a skittish Thestral. "Please, tell me what's upsetting you."

Hermione hesitated for a moment. She knew it was silly. She could trust Bella with it, but the discomfort of it all left her shaken. With a deep breath, she finally spoke, exposing her dread to the air by putting it into words. "I had a new message from the boys last night."

Bellatrix blinked, confused, and brushed a stray strand of brown mane from the girl's face. "Is something wrong? Shouldn't you be relieved to hear from them?"

"Christmas Eve, the three of them went to Godric's Hollow. Harry thought it was important – his family lived there, Dumbledore lived there… but we were all worried it might be a trap and… it was!" Hermione furiously brushed away tears from her eyes. Oh, how she was furious! At Harry for being so reckless, at Ron and Draco for not intervening; at herself for supporting their decision to go in spite of the danger! "They met an old woman – Bathilda Bagshot. Apparently, she knew the Dumbledores and Harry wanted to question her. It was _all _a trap! The woman had been killed and Nagini – the snake – was disguised as the old woman and she attacked Harry! They escaped, but Harry's wand was snapped in the process and they can't repair it. And now, Draco says that Harry and Ron are fighting more and more and the Horcrux is making everything worse. They still can't destroy it and –"

"Shhh, shh, shh," Bellatrix shushed the girl soothingly and pulled her now sobbing lover into her arms. "It will be alright, darling. If I know you, there's never a problem that you cannot solve. We _will _win this war in the end. He _will _be defeated!"

Wiping at her damp eyes, Hermione nodded although she felt was not sure she was entirely convinced. But it would do her no good to be pessimistic. Harry would find a new wand; they _will_ find the rest of the Horcruxes; they _will_ find a way to destroy them.

With renewed strength and optimism, Hermione continued her training. _Doing something is better than doing nothing._

* * *

_**Hermione, we already told you everything important that happened the night we went to Godric's Hollow, but I did forget to mention something odd I found while we were in the cemetery looking for Harry's parents. I found an old grave, further towards the back with a strange symbol carved onto it. It looked rather unprofessional, as though someone did it with a stone or chisel or something. **_

Beneath Draco's message, Hermione traced the inked drawing of the symbol he had found. It was rather odd. A circle inside a triangle, with a line drawn down the middle. For the life of her, Hermione could not figure out what it was. She'd already checked her rune dictionary and it was not to be found.

_**I've no idea what it is. The name on the grave was Ignotus Peverell. Mean anything to you? The symbol seemed familiar, though, like I'd seen it somewhere before. Not in the Manor, but recently. I'll try asking Harry once he and Ron have cooled down a bit. Tension is running high. Ron blames Harry for the attack by Nagini. Honestly, I don't know what will happen if we don't achieve something soon. **_

Hermione let the journal fall away from her fingertips and she leaned her head back against the headboard of her bed. A tickling in the back of her mind told her that the symbol was indeed familiar, nevertheless, like Draco, she could not place it. Maybe she should ask Bellatrix. The witch was a fountain of knowledge, as the Gryffindor had come to realize. Most certainly in the Dark Arts, but also in all manner of subjects. Many of her days during this break, when they were not practicing or doing… other things, they were talking; discussing everything under the moon and stars and beyond and Hermione had already learned much.

Unfortunately, the professor had very little knowledge on Horcruxes. What she knew extended just as far as Professor Slughorn's in the memory Harry had seen with Professor Dumbledore. They were horrible, dark magic that required complicated spell work and murder in order to protect a piece of one's soul in case the person's body was harmed.

Clearing away the messages in the journal and putting it away, Hermione turned off the lights and crawled into bed. It felt odd, sleeping without Bellatrix. Already, they had grown so close that the two hardly spent any time away from the other. Now, Bella was off to visit Dora for the night. Hermione realized that once term recommenced, they would be forced to see less of each other and to be much more discreet.

Closing her eyes, Hermione rolled over. Tomorrow was New Year's Eve and Professor McGonagall had arranged for yet another small party for the remaining staff and students in the castle. Hermione hoped for at least two moments alone with Bella around midnight so they could share their New Year's kiss.

The young witch sighed. Perhaps if they lived through this war, they would be able to kiss in public one day.

* * *

"Three, two, one – HAPPY NEW YEAR!" everyone in the Great Hall shouted as the magically enlarged grandfather clock struck twelve and spewed out confetti, streamers, colourful bubbles, and pixies.

Once again, Madam Hooch had taken Bellatrix on in a drinking match and the broomswoman swayed dangerously as she lifted her glass of champagne high in the air. Hermione looked around at all the happy and partially snockered faces of those around her. Professor Slughorn, Hagrid, and the older boys had begun singing _Auld Sang Lyn, _and soon enough, everyone joined in. It was a happy time, but Hermione found it bitter-sweet. They had made it another year. But would all these faces be singing this same tune next New Year's? Hermione sipped from her glass and wondered what her boys were doing now. Were they celebrating the New Year? Were they even aware of what night it was?

"Cheer up, darling, or Minerva will give you detention for bringing a black cloud to her party." Hermione jumped as a warm hand brush over her waist and the hot, wine-scented breath ghosted over the back of her neck. Immediately, she felt her heat spread throughout her body.

"I can't stop thinking about them – the boys."

"I know, pet. But try and have some fun. There's very little you can do now. I'll make sure to keep your mind occupied later this evening."

Hermione chuckled at the lewd promise and leaned inconspicuously into the woman's touch. "I'm counting on it."

With a sharp squeeze to her waist, Bellatrix sauntered away to scare off the second years who were trying to swipe a second glass of champagne while McGonagall was occupied with Hooch.

Hermione shook her head in exasperated amusement and her eyes followed the professor's figure hungrily. _I'll relax tonight, but then back to the mission. _

"Oh, God, Bella!" Hermione's back arched high off the bed as Bella twirled her tongue between her legs.

"Hmmm," the witch hummed from her kneeling position. "Who knew mud could taste _so sweet._"

"You know that's not funny – Ah!" Young hands gripped messy curls as Hermione urged her lover to finish. _So close, so close… _

The young witch whimpered in pleasure at the intrusion of Bellatrix's fingers and the two soon found a fast rhythm. With her free hand, Bellatrix dug her strong nails into the sensitive skin of Hermione's hips and dug them down deep, eliciting a harsh cry from the brunette. Many bite-marks and scratch marks marred her slender body and Bella even had a few of her own, which she wore like badges of honor.

Dark eyes drank in the sight of the lovely young woman panting in pre-orgasmic pleasure. Eyes squeezed shut, hands now balled into tight fists and pulling at the sheets, body trembling with built-up tension that would soon burst forth like a dragon taking flight.

Around her fingers, Bellatrix felt the tightening and pulsing begin, and she kept up the rhythm. She guided Hermione through the spasms of her orgasm and grinned victoriously as the woman sunk back deep into the covers, covered in sweat, chest heaving, and skin a lovely post-orgasmic pink.

"Happy, love?" Bellatrix could not conceal her smile as she climbed up the witch's body to press the softest of kisses to her closed eyelids.

"Mhmm, so happy," she gave a tired smile and half-opened her eyes to look at her lover. _Would she be my girlfriend now? I guess she would… but that word sounds so immature – lover is much more erotic. My lover, my love, my Bella. _Filled to the brim with joy, Hermione wrapped her arms around her _girlfriend _– she mentally grimaced at the word – and held on tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wondered, not for the first time, if things were moving too fast. She cared for Bella; she adored her! Did she love her? After only a few weeks of being positive she even had an attraction for the professor, was she truly ready to admit to herself that she was in love with the witch?

Pressing her face into a soft nest of midnight curls, Hermione smiled. _I think I am in love with you, Bella. _


	28. Chapter 28

Draco paced anxiously around the tent; his blond brows deeply furrowed and a scowl carved into his mouth. Though it must have been well after midnight, there was no point in laying down – he knew he would not sleep a wink, much like the few previous nights.

_Stupid fool! Why would he run off into the woods? He won't be able to find the campsite again, not with all these charms and barriers in place… _

It was almost inconceivable the disastrous point to which their quest had suddenly reached. They had managed to retrieve the locket from Umbridge, but as of yet, that was the end of their success. They still didn't have a solid plan for breaking into the Black vault or even any idea of what to look for once they got in, they didn't have anything with which to destroy the Horcruxes, Harry's wand was broken, and now their team was falling apart!

_If Ron does come back, I'm going to kill him, _Draco thought bitterly as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Then he shook his head. _No, that's not how to think; must keep a level head; stay positive. That's what Hermione would say._ He touched the Horcrux around his neck. _Don't let it get to you, Draco. You know it plays on your negative emotions; don't give it any fuel. _But that was much more difficult than the voice in his head made it sound. Oddly enough – or perhaps not oddly at all – the voice reminded him of Hermione.

He sighed. This was not the first time he had wished Hermione was here with them. She'd know what to do; she'd have been able to talk some sense into Ron before he Apparated to who-knows-where_. It's me. It's my fault. I'm just no good at this. He still doesn't trust me. _The young man breathed a low growl of frustration and fell heavily onto his cot, his hands fisted in his white-blond hair.

It had now been three days since Ron left, and Draco and Harry couldn't justify staying in this place any longer – hoping he might just walk into camp with a smile and an apology.

The two had already decided that they would leave and find another place to camp the next morning – it wasn't safe to stay in the same place for too long.

Draco heaved himself upright and pulled away the tent flap to peer out into the dark forest. Somewhere out there, Harry was keeping watch with Draco's wand. They had to share now, which the young Malfoy found to be particularly inconvenient. What if someone found them and they had to fight their way out? Not to mention Draco had no experience living without the aid of magic… A wand had always been present in his life to accomplish everyday tasks, or at the very least, he would have had the aid of a house-elf. Draco turned back towards the inside of the tent. _How the hell do I keep that fire from dying out so I don't freeze to death?_

With a frustrated groan, he closed the flap against the cold, winter wind. _It must be nearly January now, _he thought as he walked over to where they kept the journal, rubbing his hands together to warm them. Draco opened it to the new entry he had yet to read and hoped for a meager shred of good news.

_Happy New Year boys! I miss you all very much. Not even Madam Hooch's drunken antics could cheer me up as we rang in the New Year. I really wish we could have all been together. It may be terribly unjust for me to say, since you are all camping out in the woods and I'm in the castle, but I hope you hear the longing behind these words. I really miss all of you and I worry for your safety every day. Snape has been absent since the holidays began and so have the Carrows. I suppose they do not see the need to enforce their rule while so few remain in their little Kingdom of Misery during the holidays. _

_I'm still continuing my lessons with Professor Black. Hopefully, they prove to be of some use. She has also been teaching me to duel, which I daresay will be undeniably useful in times soon to come. Dumbledore's Army is strong with so many new members, and I'm expecting even more to join once term resumes. Ginny, Luna, and Neville have been a terrific help – they seemed to have formed their own little trio of rebels. I do what I can to keep everyone safe, but holding your place, Harry, is harder than I ever imagined. _

_Harry, Ron, Ginny is doing well. She misses you both terribly and, Ron, she actually hexed Blaise one day with a terrific Bat-Bogey when he said he was glad to see one less blood-traitor Weasley in the school. She narrowly missed detention with the Carrows, but Snape seems to think Hagrid gives better detentions because he has been named 'Professor of Detentions'. Perhaps Snape is trying to spare us from excess torture. Who knows? _

_We definitely have the staff on our side and three out of four houses. I've been approached by a few Slytherins who are too intimidated to join the DA but have assured me that if a fight breaks out, they will not be against us. You aren't alone, Draco! _

_And Draco, your aunt asks that you inform me if you hear anything concerning your mother and she will do the same if she hears anything or is contacted by her (nothing yet). She hasn't exactly said as much, but I know she worries for you both._

_Please keep me informed, your messages are getting fewer are farther between. Have courage – we will win this war! _

_My love – Hermione _

Eyeing the quill that lay beside the journal, Draco once again decided against informing their friend of the truth of their situation. There was no need to worry her. Yet. And plus, if Draco didn't kill Ron on his return, Hermione surely would next time she saw him.

* * *

"There you are! I've been waiting for ages, what took so long?" Hermione asked with a wide smile as Ginny and Neville walked up the aisle between the House tables to where she sat. Dinner had just begun and everywhere in the hall students were reuniting after two weeks apart.

"We were looking for Luna – we couldn't find her anywhere on the train or waiting for the carriages," Neville replied, his voice thick with worry. As he spoke, his eyes searched the Great Hall in hopes that they'd simply overlooked their eccentric friend. "You haven't seen her, have you? We thought she might have gotten here early or something." The two arriving Gryffindors sat beside their friend and slowly filled their plates with food although their minds were clearly not on their empty stomachs.

"No, I haven't seen her." Concern laced Hermione's voice, replacing her joy as she stared at her suddenly unappetising mashed potatoes. "Perhaps she'll just be a little late to term. She could have caught the flu or she and her father haven't returned from a trip."

"Yeah, maybe," Neville grumbled and Ginny nodded, both pushing food around with their forks.

Despite her logical reasoning behind Luna's absence, this more than slightly concerning, Hermione could not deny it. First, the boys all but stop replying and now Luna is potentially missing. It seemed the more Hermione tried to protect those closest to her, the more danger they seemed to encounter. _What's happened to all my friends?_

* * *

"Right, everyone, welcome back! I'm pleased to see that we have many new faces with us at this the beginning of a new year." _Thank Merlin. _"Since we have so many new arrivals, why don't we begin tonight with our usual warm-up spells? Defense, offense, and neutralizing. Anyone who is unsure of what to do, partner up with a veteran – they'll show you which spells I mean." Hermione watched as they all broke off into small groups and began their practicing. Beside her, Ginny and Neville watched the group as her assistants. Unconsciously, three pairs of eyes wandered to the empty space beside Neville where Luna would have normally stood.

_It's been a week and still no news. Perhaps I should bring it up with Professor McGonagall. _

"Hermione, can you show us how to perform a Patronus Charm? Professor Black was saying today that she taught the seventh years in her class to perform them and yours is corporeal. Can you teach us?" asked a zealous Colin Creevy, with his younger brother, Dennis, nodding exuberantly behind him.

Hermione smiled. _Some things never change… and I hope they never will. _"Neville, would you like to explain as I demonstrate?"

Pulling out her wand, Hermione summoned the happiest memory she could think of. She waved her wand and a silvery mist formed, and from there, her curious and intelligent little otter took form and swam cheerfully around the small crowd of students.

"To perform a corporeal Patronus like this," Neville began, "it is important to think of the happiest memory possible – something filled with love, family, and friends. Then you'll wave your wand like so while speaking the words _Expecto Patronum._"

The students all muttered the incantation, testing it out slowly over their tongues like a new flavour of candy they were yet unsure about. Hermione smiled to see how captivated they all were by Neville's teaching. _He would make a terrific professor someday, _Hermione thought happily. She believed dreaming of the future was important, especially in dark times like these. However, lately she'd been finding it more and more difficult to do so; theory was easy while practice required much more strength.

"If your memory is strong enough, you'll see your Patronus take the form of an animal, like Hermione's otter. The charm, even in its incorporeal shield form, can protect one against Dementors. This is very advanced magic, so don't be discouraged if all you get is a bit of silver smoke – this takes practice. There are even some grown wizards who have never produced a corporeal Patronus."

"I heard your Patronus is an elephant, Neville! Can you show us?" Dennis asked enthusiastically.

Neville seemed hesitant so Hermione placed an encouraging hand on her friend's shoulder. "Go on, Neville, I'm going to walk around."

Nodding, Neville pulled out his wand and summoned his behemoth of a Patronus. A grin stretched across Hermione's face as loud cheers erupted from behind her. Wandering through the mass of dueling students, Hermione passed the large mirror they used as a billboard. In Harry's time, only an old picture of the original Order and a newspaper clipping of Cedric were tacked up. Now, however, the glass was covered with newspaper clippings with headlines of Death Eater activity, lists of missing persons, lists of deceased persons, Harry's wanted poster, the mandatory list of members which grew daily, and the entire article that described how Harry Potter had broken into the Ministry of Magic to attempt the supposed _'assassination' _of Deloris Umbridge. There were also magical and muggle photographs of students, some more recent than others. Hermione saw the Patil twins with Lavender in one picture; Seamus, Dean, Harry, Ron, and Neville in their dormitory in third year; a group of Hufflepuffs; a group of Ravenclaws; many photos of their house Quidditch teams throughout the years; and even one of Hogwarts Castle, underneath which someone had scrawled, '_For all our family'. _Hermione encouraged them all to post whatever they wished on the mirror. In her mind, it was a constant reminder of why they were here and what they were fighting for.

* * *

"Faster, pet, you'll never survive if you're this slow in a real battle!" Bellatrix barked as she and Hermione dueled furiously in her classroom. Unlike when they practiced Occlumency, the tables were all pushed against the walls and double precautions were taken while putting up the charms, as it would be much more difficult to mask the sounds of dueling in the classroom.

Hermione's arms ached and her body was covered in a significant sheen of sweat. _This is bloody torture! _Hermione thought as she dodged yet another Bat-Bogey Hex from the professor. She retaliated with a strong _Tarantallegra _but was thwarted when the dark witch easily blocked it with a Shield Charm. One spell after another was shot from one end of the room to the other and a great many burn marks decorated the walls and bits of shattered glass littered the floor.

"_Pratrificus Totalus!" _

Bella blocked again with a silent charm. "I suggest you practice casting silently! It really gives your opponent the advantage to know what spell you're flinging at them."

"It takes too long! If I concentrate that hard, you'll have time to hit me."

"Practice, dearie!" Bellatrix sent off a _Stupefy _without even moving her lips and Hermione's hasty – but silent – _Protego_ just barely saved her before it shattered upon impact with the Stunning Spell.

_Experillamus! _

_Protego! – Anteoculatia! _

_Depulso! – Flippendo! _

Beads of sweat from fierce concentration rolled down the back of Hermione's neck as she tried to force Bella to the defensive. Hermione's last spell had nearly made the woman stumble, but she quickly corrected her footing and redirected the energy of the spell.

"Come _on, _pet, throw something stronger at me – I can take it! Those baby spells won't do you any good in battle. A first year could cast them!" Bellatrix taunted, a mad grin splayed over her red lips.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione obeyed – oh how she'd love to cast Bella on her ass just this once!

_Deprimo! Stupefy! Everte Statum! Expulso! Impedimenta! _

Bellatrix, who had thus been rather enjoying flicking Hermione's spells aside as if they were flies, frowned as more and more spells fired from the young witch's wand without warning. _Protego! PROTEGO!_

Confidence grew inside the brunette and her aim became more accurate; her spells stronger. She was nowhere near graceful or fluid in her motions as the ex-Auror, but that was not today's objective. Today, she had to incapacitate Bella or be in procession of her wand. Simple. In theory. _One well-place Disarming Charm would be all I need, but for that, I would need to find an opening in her defenses. _

Bella's frown deepened and her lips curled into a fierce snarl. Her curls bounced furiously as she dodged and blocked Hermione's spells. The sheer number and strength of the young witch's spells were impressive, and Bella had no doubt that if the young woman learned the proper footwork, she could be an excellent duellist.

_Even better than me? Ha! Keep your pride, Bella! Beat your little witch!_

In a brief space between spells, Bellatrix tried to send off a hex to distract her student, but it was rendered inert as it exploded on impact with what looked like a _Confringo. _

Back on a serious defensive, Bellatrix felt the exertion working its way through her body. Her muscles began to burn and her wand heated in her hand from the strength of the Shield Charms she had to produce. Hermione sent off three _Experillamus _charms in quick succession, and Bella had to fight for the hold over her wand. Suddenly, something was made all too clear in Bella's mind. _She's going to beat me… fuck that!_

"_FINITE!" _the professor shouted. Everything stopped. All of Hermione's spells vanished and the next died before it left the tip of her wand. "That's enough," she said, pushing a curl from in front of her eyes with forced nonchalance.

"But I haven't finished; I needed to be in possession of your wand in order to complete the lesson," the young woman argued, confused and out of breath.

"But_ I_ said that was enough," Bella deadpanned.

"But_ you_ –" Hermione's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped in sudden understanding. "You knew you were going to lose," she uttered softly. "You sore loser! I was going to beat you so you quit!" she erupted into a fit of laughter that had Bella's temper rising and red blooming over her alabaster skin.

"How dare you accuse me of quitting! I said I'd seen enough, and that's that!" Bella hastily removed the charms protecting them from any interruption from the outside as if taking down the enchantments was a way to enforce and justify her decision.

"Bella I…" Hermione tried to speak through the tears and breathlessness of her laughter as she approached the indignant witch. She took Bella's hand on her own. "It's okay, Bella, please, stay! I'm not laughing _at _you."

"Yes, you are!" Bella shouted, snatching her hand from the girl's grip and folding her arms over her chest.

"_No, _I'm laughing because I'm happy! Do you know what an accomplishment it is to have Bellatrix Black pull back from a duel because she _thinks _she _might _lose? It's – it's amazing! The feeling is euphoric! I feel like I could take on Vol –"

"Watch it! Do you want the Carrows on your arse, or have you forgotten that the name is tabooed?" She clamped a hand over the young woman's mouth before she could finish speaking the word. Her frustration and annoyance ebbed away as Hermione smiled sheepishly and kissed the inside of her hand.

"Sorry," she muttered behind the muzzle.

"Hmph, you better be. If anyone one's going to come down on that arse, it'll be me. I don't share what's mine." She removed her hand but did not respond to the witchling's affectionate touches.

"And you won't have to," Hermione assured her in that innocent-yet-sexy way only she could pull off. She wrapped her arms around Bella's waist and kissed the pulse point of the woman's warm and perfumed neck. "I'm all yours."

"I still think I might have to remind you." A wolfish grin replaced Bella's annoyed pout and Hermione had a brief moment to feel excitement sizzle through her veins before the beast attacked.


	29. Chapter 29

Minerva was nervous and the professor found that anxiety was not a good look for a woman of her profession. When she was anxious, it made the students fearful, and that was the last thing she wanted now. It was her job to instill an atmosphere of calm throughout the halls of her beloved school. _Not to mention the worry lines make me look decades older, _the ever-critical voice in her head felt fit to remind her. Yet again.

Snape had not returned for the start of term feast nor since, and in his absence, the Carrows were taking more and more liberties with regards to the disciplining of the students.

A few moments before, she had witnessed the admittance of a little first-year student to the Hospital Wing while she was visiting Poppy. The boy looked awful. A large bruise had already formed over the side of his face and blood ran from the back of his head where he had landed on the stone floor. The story was, an older Slytherin student, under the orders of Alecto, punched and kicked the child for saying that Harry Potter was a great wizard. The child entered the hospital carried by the distraught sixth-year and a few of the young Hufflepuff's friends. Oh, the sobbing! Both from the young as well as the older Slytherin student.

Minerva had never believed the old stereotype that all Slytherins were monsters, and this just firmed her beliefs. Dark times changed people and showed their different sides in the strangest ways. It churned her stomach.

This could not continue. Hogwarts was meant to be a safe place.

Minerva had tried to confront the Carrows about their treatment of the students but to no avail. If she tried to intervene any further, she was certain she would no longer be a professor here. _Or anywhere…_ she thought as she reminisced to her little stint in St. Mungo's two years prior.

And what would she do then? What would happen to the students without her?

Tired, stressed to the breaking point, and feeling older than she had ever believed herself to be, Minerva made her way to the one person who wouldn't give a damn about what the Carrows could do to her.

Bellatrix had always had nerve – Minerva even believed that she could have been a courageous Gryffindor if not for her cunning, ambition, and many other obvious and overwhelming Slytherin qualities.

McGonagall had been a professor at Hogwarts longer than she perhaps cared to admit, and she had seen hundreds if not thousands of students arrive as first-years and depart at the end of their seventh year. In those years, there were always a few students who stood out amongst the rest. Bellatrix was one said student. Clever and brilliant in every subject, the young Black witch had been top of her class every year and an excellent Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Despite her high academic achievements – or perhaps due to them – Bellatrix was an arrogant and troublesome young woman, often disrupting classes and bullying those she found particularly annoying. She shared the same basic concepts on blood-purity as most of her Pure-blooded classmates, but her antics were seldom discriminatory based on a student's blood-purity. After the death of her mother, however, Bellatrix's views on 'purity' altered drastically. She openly supported her sister's marriage to a Muggle-born and denounced her father's racist beliefs, damned the consequences. She soon became an active member of the Order and put away many of her old Pure-blooded classmates as an Auror for their crimes against Muggles, Muggle-borns, and service to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It had given her a significant amount of pleasure to one of those to arrest the Lestrange brothers and Barty Crouch Jr. – Rodolphus having been a boyfriend of hers before she refused marriage to a racist, sadistic, vile prig, as she put it – especially after what hey did to her collogues, the Longbottoms. She hated those Death Eaters and despised everything You-Know-Who stood for.

_Voldemort, Minerva! Even if the name is tabooed you can still think it to yourself, you coward. _

The Transfiguration professor shivered as she briskly marched through the castle. The halls of her home were tenebrous and frigid. Before, under Albus's leadership, Minerva had never been afraid of Hogwarts after dark. Nowadays, she jumped at the slightest sound and her pulse raced with the flicker of every shadow. Was that a Death Eater? A Dementor? Have they started to raid the school? No – it was just a cat.

Pulling her robes tighter around her slim frame, she continued on her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Yes, out of everyone in this school, Bellatrix would be able to do something about the Carrows.

Made bold by her sense of purpose that night, she yanked open the large door, already speaking as she stepped forward into the large, open classroom.

"Bellatrix, we all need you to – oh my goodness!" McGonagall's shriek rose to the rafters and rang as loud as a train whistle at the sight before her. It seemed this year was determined to give her heart failure, one way or another.

The student and the professor in the center of the room leaped apart. Bellatrix licked her lower lip and glowered daggers at the wide-eyed head of Gryffindor; Hermione's face turned the exact shade of a tomato as she clutched her chest, battling a mini heart attack.

"May I help you, Minerva?" Bellatrix asked with feigned indifference as she stared down her colleague. Beside her, Hermione struggled to contain her trembling and stared in shock at Bella's haughty attitude towards the stately professor. Terror shone clear as day in the young witch's eyes as she stared at Bellatrix in bafflement. Did she not understand how much trouble they were in? McGonagall could denounce their illicit relationship here and now! Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as though she could physically hold herself together and contain her panic.

McGonagall recovered more quickly from her shock and her pale lips formed a thin, white line as her intelligent green eyes flickered between the two women. "Miss Granger, I believe I would like to speak to Professor Black _alone_," she said crisply, though she was by no means calm.

Nodding quickly, Hermione all but ran from the room, escaping from the suffocating tension. Brown eyes tried to meet Bella's as she fled, but the dark witch's gaze remained fixed on McGonagall's stare of steel.

McGonagall shut the door firmly behind the girl and cracked her neck to the side to relieve some of the accumulated strain. Thunder clouds loomed on the horizon and electricity crackled through the darkness.

"A student?" McGonagall hissed between clenched teeth. "Really, Bellatrix? This goes against one of the most fundamental rules in every educational facility in the world!" The professor's voice steadily rose until her strict voice was a cold, hard shout of fury as she reprimanded her fellow teacher.

"Fuck the rules!" Bellatrix screamed in return, her arrogance from moments before evaporating. For all her bluster, fear shone in her dark eyes and her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip – a nervous habit, one she thought she had outgrown back during her school days. "There's a war out there, Minerva, or haven't you heard? We could die at any moment – why bother following the bloody rules! Why not just forget them and be happy for a few moments?"

"A war does not excuse one's complete disregard for a proper code of conduct! What would happen if we all abided by your philosophy and acted as we pleased during times of strife? The world would be in constant anarchy!"

"Minerva, this is different; it doesn't hurt anyone – "

"It could hurt Miss Granger! She's a young girl – "

"She's older than you're aware!"

"Bellatrix, I know of the effects of the Time-Turner on her age, but simply because she's legally nineteen does not mean – "

"No, not physical age, Minerva! Maturity! Intellect! Min, we… she understands. I see it in her eyes." Bellatrix's voice became softer; more vulnerable. With a sigh, her expressive eyes dropped to the floor and her shoulders drooped a fraction of an inch. She ran her slender fingers through her mass of curls until they became caught in one of the many knots. She pulled hard to break them free but it only caused pain to shoot from the roots of her hair straight to her tear ducts and she quickly gave up before she screamed in frustration.

Minerva stood stunned by the change in her colleague's demeanor. Before, Bellatrix had been furiously defensive, but now, the dark-haired woman seemed utterly despondent. Bellatrix never backed down or showed vulnerability; she fought to the last breath, never sacrificing her pride or her cause. Was she wrong, was she right – it didn't matter. Bellatrix fought. Now, Minerva wondered…

_Bellatrix, could she really be in love with the girl?_ Minerva had never known the witch to engage romantically or to even take someone for a physical lover in all the years she'd known her. For Bellatrix to speak so tenderly of someone else was… alarming.

The stern professor closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Merlin, did she have a headache!

As romantic as the story was – if it was truly love between them – it could still not be permitted to continue. It wasn't healthy, it wasn't proper. If others found out – heaven forbid if that horrible Skeeter woman caught wind of such a story! – Bellatrix would lose her position in the school; Hermione would be labeled for life. Any Ministry position would be perpetually out of reach with such a scandal in her past. No. They may be in a time of war, but that did not give them the right to completely disregard the possibility of a brighter future. "I'm sorry, Bellatrix, but I cannot allow this to continue – for Hermione's sake as well as your own."

A cold fire ignited behind Bellatrix's dark eyes and as she spoke, lightning flashed in those dark pools. Minerva felt the blood in her veins freeze into ice. There was a reason why most students were frightened of Professor Black. "Minerva, if you dare interfere with this –"

"I _am _sorry, Bellatrix!" Minerva swallowed. _Minerva, you're Head of Gryffindor – show some backbone! You know what must be done. _"As Head of Miss Granger's House, I am removing her from your class. I think some space between the two of you will be healthy."

"YOU CAN'T!"

"I can! Miss Granger will now have assignments from me relative to the subjects that will be tested during her N.E.W.T.s examinations." Taking a deep breath, Minerva faced the seething dragon. "Think rationally, Bella. You're twice her age; where do you see this going? And a scandal of this proportion would devastate her opportunities in the Ministry. Do you really want that for her, even if you continue your relationship? Hermione wants a career, she needs one! That's who she is." The old lioness gave the younger professor a sympathetic look. She knew firsthand how difficult inter-scholastic relationships could be, but the situation between Bellatrix and Hermione was vastly more serious than two old birds seeking love and companionship.

Bellatrix's jaw trembled with emotion and she refused to meet the other woman's eyes. Instead, she watched as the winter storm rapidly approached the school's grounds. _She understands, _Minerva thought to herself almost regretfully. Some part of her – the romantic part – had hoped the dark witch would fight authority to be with the woman she loved, but Bellatrix was too intelligent for such drastic actions – when she took the time to think, of course. Though she did have a tendency to react based on her emotions, she understood all too well the repercussions her relationship with the young witch could have on both of them if word were to get out.

_It's as though she's accepting defeat in a battle she's already been fighting. How long has she been waring with herself over this? _

"What did you come here for?" Bellatrix spoke low, with no feeling or depth left in her voice. Never had she felt so defeated. Despite her breaking heart, Bellatrix held her chin aloft and willed the tears from her eyes. _Don't feel. Distract, move on. _

Acknowledging this as a clear change of subject, Minerva explained her presence. "Another student has been admitted to the infirmary on account of the Carrows' malicious maltreatment. Alecto had a sixth-year Slytherin pulverise a first-year Hufflepuff for speaking in Potter's defense."

"Fucking incest twins…" the dark witch muttered as she paced over to one of the large windows along one wall of the room. "What are we supposed to do about it?" she asked as she watched the cold winter wind dance through the bare bones of the trees of the forest. The branches were utterly devoid of life, and Bella felt oddly comforted by it.

"That's what I came here to ask you. I feel that if we continue to intervene directly… we run the risk of no longer being in the school in order to protect the children."

"Mhmm, you're right." Bellatrix nodded in agreement. "I suppose now the only thing we can do is ask the students to behave themselves. It will be torturous to watch the Carrows run amok, but the smart students will keep their heads down."

"And what of Dumbledore's Army? You must know they've reformed and are leading a rebellious act against everything to do with You-Know-Who."

Bellatrix gave a small chuckle. Hermione had told her that the DA was back and that they were practicing more than ever, and that their numbers were increasing with every lesson. It was also hard to miss all the Support Potter posters and tags around the school over the past few months. "They've got a strong, smart leader – they'll handle themselves." Outside, the wind picked up as more snow began to fall from the thick layer of clouds. "For now, I say focus on teaching more useful spells – mostly defense and healing for the younger ones. Give them a toolkit to use when they're in trouble."

"That sounds very sensible."

She scoffed. "Sensible? It's a coward's response to tyranny!"

"Sometimes the bravest actions we take are the ones we hold back."

"What the hell does that mean, Min? You're starting to sound like old Dumbledore."

"What I mean is that sometimes the bravest thing to do is nothing while waiting for the opportune moment."

"Fine."

"Please don't do anything rash, Bellatrix. We need you here – the students, the staff, the Order… we all need your support."

"Yes, yes alright, I'll be a good girl and sit on my hands while students are tortured and people die!"

"Bellatrix –"

"I know! I know that's not what you meant." Bellatrix sighed and rested her head against the cool windowpane. The corners of her eyes began to prickle infuriatingly.

"Just take your own advice and keep your head down."

"Yes, _Mum_."

"And consider what I said about your involvement with Miss Granger."

Bellatrix did not respond. They remained for a few moments in awkward silence until Minerva got the hint and left Bellatrix alone with her thoughts. Then, and only then, did Bella allow a few tears slip down her pale cheeks.

* * *

Hermione paced around her room feeling sick. _Why did Bella take down the wards so soon?! Why didn't McGonagall knock?! What is she going to do? What are we going to do?_

In an attempt to distract her busy mind, Hermione grabbed a random book from her bookshelf and flipped to a random page. _The Fountain of Fair Fortune. _Peeking at the cover, Hermione realized that she picked the copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _that Professor Dumbledore had bequeathed her. Before, she had only flipped through the five stories, giving each a small scan. The old, worn, and well-loved pages felt comforting in her hands and she decided that there was no better time to read through the stories Dumbledore thought she would find entertaining and instructive.

_Well, nothing better than a moralistic fable to distract me._

Hermione curled up on her bed and devoured one story after another. "The Fountain of Fair Fortune", "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot", "The Warlock's Hairy Heart", "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump", and "The Tale of the Three Brothers".

As Hermione turned the page to the last story, something inked onto the page beside the title caught her eye. A triangle encasing a circle with a line drawn down the middle.

She finally remembered why the symbol Draco showed her was familiar!


	30. Chapter 30

The hot water scalded Bella's skin as she let the shower purge her of the cold that had seeped into her heart.

At that moment, Bellatrix was grateful for the magically heated water-system of the castle. Hermione had told her briefly of Muggle plumbing and that sometimes a house would run out of hot water right in the middle of a shower. _How do Muggles live in such squalor? _

Her eyes stung, but all her tears washed down the drain with the rivulets from the shower before they could drip from her chin.

She'd asked Sipsey to pass along a note to Hermione, asking the girl to meet her here just after dinner. Having no appetite, Bella had skipped the meal, but the young witch would be here soon. A wave of her hand shut off the water and she stepped out onto the cold tile floor. She wiped a hand across the foggy mirror and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were still red and the dark circles under her eyes were a clear indication of her lack of sleep the previous night.

_How could I have been expected to sleep at all! _She'd stayed up all night thinking of what to do. Should she ignore Minerva's advice? Should she heed it? Did she care at all?

Finally, she had come to a decision. _I have to end things with Hermione. I have to break up with her._ She was loath to admit it, but Min was right. Too much could go wrong. Hermione's life could be ruined. Bellatrix could not have cared less about her own reputation, and truly, being thought of as a cougar who could land a young witch such as the Golden Girl kind of appealed to her vanity. But it was Hermione who was just beginning her life. It was her reputation and her future that mattered. Right?

Bellatrix magically dried herself and dressed in her favourite colour. Black was always in season for a Black. A few magical compounds hid her tired eyes behind thick glamour but there was nothing she could do to magically hide the sorrow they held.

_If she sees this hurts you, she'll fight it. Bury your feelings. They don't exist. You've played this game for decades; you can do it for another hour. _

There was a rapid knock on her door and Hermione rushed in with a large grin. "Bella!" she greeted and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of Bella's unresponsive mouth. Hermione frowned but kept her arms circled around the woman's waist. "I got your note. What did McGonagall say? Is that what this is about?"

Lowering her gaze, Bella removed Hermione's arms from around her but held her hands tightly. "Take a seat."

Hermione, the good little witch, obeyed. Deep worry settled on her features. "Bella, you're worrying me. What is it?"

"We have to end this." _Great way to start, Bella. Just throw it at her!_

"I beg your pardon? End what?" Her question was innocent and hopeful, but the crack in her voice told Bella Hermione knew exactly what she meant. And it was breaking her heart.

"This. Us. This… _thing _we've started. It cannot continue."

* * *

Hermione felt… empty. Alone on her bed, she held the locket Bella had given her for Christmas. The stone seemed to shine less now when she held to the light. This was just… too sudden. Bella broke things off the day after McGonagall caught them together. It couldn't be a coincidence. Everything felt wrong. And now, she wasn't even permitted to take proper DADA classes. That was salt in her deep, deep wound. Sadness and anger mixed in a whirlwind in her chest. Her eyes were sore from all the tears she'd already shed and now, hours later, they occasionally leaked. She felt weak, drained, and exhausted.

Crooks, her mischievous feline, crawled through the little cat door she enchanted to appear whenever her pet decided to visit. It had been quite a while since he had come around. Hermione believed it was his part-kneazle genes that made him even more independent and solitary than most Hogwarts cats.

The great ball of orange fluff hopped up onto her bed and immediately demanded to be lavished with attention. The softness of his fur had a hypnotic quality over the young witch. They sat there on the bed, each consumed by their own thoughts, Hermione's hands mechanically stroking the animal's long fur.

_This won't be the end for me and Bella, _Hermione promised herself. To herself and to Crooks, she vowed to find a way to convince Bellatrix of this – that their love was true; that they belonged together.

* * *

"Miss Granger? Is everything quite alright? You seem rather distracted today."

"Yes, everything is perfectly fine, sir," Hermione responded automatically, flashing Professor Slughorn her most convincing smile.

The old man's walrus moustache twitched a bit, but he nodded all the same. "Well, then I suggest you keep a closer eye on your brew, there. It's almost fuchsia instead of lilac."

"Yes, thank you, sir." Hermione quickly added the diced mandrake root to her concoction and it was soon the perfect shade of lilac the manual described for the first few steps of making Skele-gro.

Hermione could not help but be distracted over the past few days. She'd tried and failed multiple times to talk to Bellatrix, but she was deterred at every step. McGonagall had forbidden her entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom – which magic made physically impossible – and Bellatrix avoided her everywhere. It got to the point that the dark witch had changed her mealtime schedule so she would miss the times when Hermione would be in the Great Hall.

It hurt. Bloody hell, did it ever hurt!

To her left, Lavender's potion bubbled furiously and gave off a sickeningly sweet, yellow smoke.

"You forgot to add the scarab beetles after stirring it clockwise six and a half times," Hermione whispered to the frantic Gryffindor. "If you dump it now, you'll have time to finish a new batch by the end of class."

"Thanks, Hermione, you're a life saver! I need to know this one if I'm going to make it as a Mediwitch."

"No problem." Hermione sprinkled in the dried Chinese Chomping cabbage leaves and turned the heat down. Once the bubbles died down to a slow simmer, the potion turned a light, light blue. _Almost finished. _

While pulverising her Puffer-fish scales, Hermione's thoughts once again drifted back to Bellatrix, as they often did. _I'm positive McGonagall had a hand in this, but Bella was nervous to start our relationship in the first place… I have to convince her that this is right for the both of us and that no matter what anyone says we know that this is meant to be. _

She paused just before she scooped three tea-spoons of scales into the Skele-gro. Something smelled… odd. Hermione took a long whiff of her potion and determined that it was not at all the concoction before her. Lavender's cauldron was empty… what could it be?

Brown eyes roamed over the room searching for the source of the smell that tickled memories within her mind. It was spicy, with a hint of something natural and green… pine? Another smell caught her at the back of her throat, reminding her of the first time she drank Firewhiskey with Bella.

Frowning, she added the last ingredient to her potion and watched as it turned from a light blue to a liquid so clear it almost appeared as if her cauldron were empty. Ladling a sample into a flask for grading, Hermione walked to the front of the class to place it on the professor's desk.

"Exceptional colouring – or should I say, _lack_ of colouring – Miss Granger. Excellent work, as usual," Slughorn praised her as she placed the vial into his sweaty palm. Here, the smell that had caught her attention was much stronger.

"Professor, do you smell that?" she asked curiously.

"That? Oh, yes, I suppose you mean this." He lifted the lid from a small cauldron that sat over a tiny flame on his desk. The second the lid was off, Hermione knew instantly what she had smelt. "If I recall, you are quite capable of identifying this particular brew."

"Amortentia," she identified the potion without hesitation. She felt her face simultaneously heat up and drain of blood.

"Yes, exactly. I have a sixth-year class next period and it will be their turn to identify this concoction along with a few others."

_Pine, spice, Firewhiskey… bloody hell! I _am_ in love with Bellatrix!_

Suddenly, a plan began to take form in her brilliant mind, for which she would need a partner in crime, as well as –

"Professor, I wonder if I might take a small vial of it, if you don't mind?"

"Heavens! Whatever for? I'm sure a brilliant and lovely young witch such as yourself has no need for such a potion! You are aware of the risks and such…"

"Oh, no, you misunderstand, Professor," she laughed innocently. "This is not for anyone to consume. Simply for an experiment of mine. Purely academic, of course."

"Well, alright, I suppose," he said whilst pouring some of the sparkling pink potion into a glass vial for the young witch. "I trust you'll share your discoveries with me if they prove successful?"

"Yes, sir, I promise," she lied and snatched the vial greedily from him.

Dismissed now that she had finished the assignment, Hermione rushed off through the castle. There were preparations to be done.

* * *

In this particular moment, Hermione was exceedingly grateful that Harry and Ron had given very little care to the rules. The young witch stopped deep inside the castle in front of a large portrait depicting various kinds of fruit in a fruit bowl. Down the corridor, she heard several laughing voices as they passed by. Hufflepuffs on their way to or from their common room, she assumed. She remembered that it was somewhere here, close to the kitchens. Remembering the last time they entered the Hogwarts kitchens, Hermione tickled the pear on the large, painted canvas. It squirmed, wriggled, and laughed and transformed into a large green doorknob. Inside, the kitchens were busy with all the working house-elves fixing dinner for the staff and students. It still made her uncomfortable to know that all the cleaning, cooking and such was done by these little magical creatures, but Hermione understood that each one of them took pride in their work and that they all genuinely enjoyed what they did.

"Hello there, Miss!" greeted the largest of the house-elves, the Head Cook, so to speak. "Can we get Miss anything? A snack or a drink to tide Miss over until dinner?" The elf's large brown eyes stared up at the girl and Hermione berated herself for trying to force her beliefs on magical creatures she obviously did not completely understand.

"Um, a cookie and a glass of milk would be lovely," Hermione answered shyly, unwilling to refuse such a kind offer.

The Head Elf quickly hobbled away and Hermione took a seat on a stool out of the way of the busy workers. Not a minute later, the large elf returned bearing a tray loaded with a large class of ice-cold milk and a plate of various warm cookies. Hermione graciously accepted the treats and devoured two cookies before she remembered her purpose for disrupting the house-elves at their work.

"Is there anything else Kip could help Miss with?" the elf – Kip – asked.

"Please, call me Hermione," she insisted. "And yes, actually, I need to speak with an elf named Sipsey. I'm afraid it is rather important."

"Yes, of course, Miss Hermione, right away!"

Before Hermione could correct the _Miss _again, Kip was off in search of the little elf.

"Hello, Miss Hermione!"

"Dobby! How wonderful to see you!" Hermione grinned ear to ear as a familiar face peeled out of the crowd of tiny bodies. The elf's large green eyes lit up as he bounded over to her excitedly.

"Miss, may Dobby ask a question?"

"Of course, Dobby," she replied and took another bite of a scrumptious oatmeal cookie.

"How is Harry Potter? Dobby has not seen him since visiting with Kreature many months ago."

Hermione swallowed and lowered her eyes. She did not want to worry the poor little elf, but she also believed that Dobby deserved to know the truth. "I'm not too sure, Dobby. He's on a mission, a special mission to beat You-Know-Who."

"Yes, yes, Harry Potter said so," the elf said anxiously, tears welling up in his large, tennis ball eyes.

"I'm sure he's safe, I spoke to him not long ago," she tried to reassured him as much as she was able.

"Has Harry Potter been eating? And Mister Weasley? And old Master Draco? Dobby saw him too, in the house with Harry Potter and Mister Weasley. Master Draco was much kinder to Dobby this time and old Master Draco apologized for beating Dobby when Dobby was servant to the Malfoys." The tears spilled over and he used his wool-knitted hat as a tissue to wipe his large eyes. Hermione recognised it as one of the many hats she had made in her fifth year.

"I'm sure they're all well," Hermione reassured the sweet little creature again and patted his scrawny shoulder. "I promise, I'll let you know how they all are the next time I hear from them, alright?"

"Thank you, Miss Hermione!" The elf brightened slightly and gave her a heartwarming smile.

"Miss Hermione? What is it the Miss would like with Sipsey?"

Behind Dobby, Sipsey emerged from the bustling elves with a too-large apron wrapped around her tiny body.

Hermione smiled at the elf she had come to know rather well during her time spent with Bellatrix. "I have a job for you, Sipsey. Dobby, you can help, too, if Sipsey asks."

"Sipsey is happy to help Miss Hermione!"

"Dobby is _very _happy to help Sipsey help Miss Hermione!"

From her bag, Hermione pulled out the vial of Amortentia. "Sipsey, have you seen Bellatrix lately?"

"Mistress Bella has not been very happy lately," she admitted, twisting her hands in her apron. "Mistress barely eats in the Great Hall and not at all when Sipsey brings Mistress snacks."

Hermione felt a painful pang in her heart, but it was as she'd hoped. Bellatrix was unhappy with their separation as well. _This just might work, then. _

"Anything else?"

"Mistress has been drinking more of the Firewhiskey. Mistress had Sipsey run to the Hog's Head last night to fetch more!"

"Do you know why she's upset?"

"Mistress did not tell Sipsey. Has Mistress and Miss Hermione had a fight?"

"No, not exactly…" Hermione said, her eyes downcast. _How is one supposed to explain forbidden love to a house-elf? _"But Bellatrix believes we shouldn't be a couple anymore."

"But Mistress was much, much happier with Miss Hermione than ever before! Sipsey does not understand…"

"That's okay, Sipsey, because I'm going to get her back. I want to make Bellatrix happy again. That's what I need your help with. I want you to put this somewhere in her room where she won't find it. Make sure it's uncorked so she can smell it." Hermione handed over the Amortentia to the little elf, who held it as if the liquid itself would save her mistress from the sadness and depression she had fallen back into.

"What will it do?"

"I hope it will remind her that I love her and that, I think, she loves me too."

"Sipsey will do everything Miss Hermione has asked!"

"Wonderful!" Hermione stood from the short stool and made her way back to the portrait hole, followed by the two elves. "Thank you, Sipsey. Thank you, Dobby. I'll be back if there's anything else."


	31. Chapter 31

_**Hermione, we did it! WE DESTROYED THE HORCRUX! It's a long story, so I'm going to try and condense it as much as possible. **_

_**Ron and I had a fight and he left for a few weeks, just after the attack in Godric's Hollow (try not to be too mad at him, we're all trying to forget about it). Draco and I kept moving around and ended up in the forest of Dean – I remembered you telling us stories about camping there with your parents and thought it might be a good place to hide. Anyways, we were hiding there with all the enchantments you told us to use and I was on watch with Malfoy's wand when I saw a Patronus over on another hill. It was a doe, like my mother's. I know you're going to say I was foolish and reckless and you'd be right, but I followed it anyway and it led me further into the forest to a frozen pond. It walked out onto the middle of the ice and vanished. I went to where it disappeared and at the bottom of the pond, there it was – the sword of Gryffindor!**_

_**I broke the ice and tried swimming down to grab it. The locket – it went boggers. It tried choking me like it was afraid of the sword and was trying to get away. I was trapped under the ice when suddenly Ron jumped into the water, saved me, and grabbed the sword. I'll explain how he found us in a minute. So, after all the talking and yelling, Ron and I destroyed the Horcrux. I used Parseltongue to open it and Ron smashed it with the sword. It put up a real fight though. I didn't see what happened – the thing exploded in darkness and a shrieking noise and I was knocked aside – but whatever it was, Ron refused to tell me what he saw – it really shook him up! **_

_**Ron also gave me a new wand – a blackthorn, from a Snatcher he escaped while he was gone. **_

_**Hey, 'Mione! So, I guess you heard I buggered off for a bit when things got rough… yeah, I'm not proud of it. I stayed with Bill and Fleur for a little, but really I was hopping around trying to get back to Harry and Malfoy. One night, I was sleeping in this little pub and playing with Dumbledore's Deluminator when I suddenly heard a bunch of voices coming out of it – you, Mum, Ginny, Harry, Dad, even Malfoy. All of you were saying the same thing, that Harry needed me and that I needed to find him. I clicked the switch, and a tiny ball of light suddenly floated from the Deluminator and it passed through my chest and I knew it would take me to where I needed to go so I Disapparated. I ended up in this forest without a clue where I was. It was dark and spooky and then suddenly I see a Patronus in the shape of a deer. I followed it, thinking it was Harry. Then I saw him, the stupid bloke was diving into a frozen pond! I jumped in after him, grabbed the sword and pulled him out. You know the rest so I'm going to pass the quill to someone else. Miss you lots, 'Mione! – Ron. **_

_**P.S. I know you're probably really mad at me, and I totally deserve it, but let's agree for you to hit me after we've won this war, yeah? Hope to see you soon. **_

_**Hermione, with this recent victory, I finally showed Harry and Ron the symbol I found in the graveyard in Godric's Hollow and told them of the name Peverelle. Harry remembered the symbol too! Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, was wearing it around his neck at the wedding and Harry saw it in a vision of the Dark Lord outside Gregorovitch's wand shop. And I found it again, in a letter Dumbledore sent to the wizard Grindelwald from Dumbledore's biography by Rita Skeeter I nicked from Bathilda Bagshot's home in Godric's Hollow. It keeps popping up everywhere. We've all agreed that we should go see Lovegood as soon as possible to ask him about it – this seems really important.**_

_**We're all happy to be a trio again, but we miss you like mad, Hermione. And now we're that much closer to ending this war! We'll all talk soon, promise! And I'm sorry I didn't tell you Ron had left. I didn't know how to break the news and I was afraid of worrying you. Like Ron said, hit me when the war is over! **_

_**Our love – Harry, Ron & Draco**_

_Fantastic, boys! I can't believe it. I wonder who's Patronus that was… someone in the Order? A ghost? Still, now that you have the sword, you can destroy all the new Horcruxes you find! _

_I suggest you keep moving. If the person with the doe Patronus found you, others might as well, and they may not be as kind. _

_I agree you should ask Mr. Lovegood about the symbol. Ask him about _"The Tale of the Three Brothers" _as well. I found that symbol inked in beside the title of that story in the copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _that Dumbledore left me. They might be connected – all three clues might be connected. The story isn't long; I'll write it out for you after. _

_Also, ask to see Luna. She hasn't returned to school since term resumed. We've sent multiple letters and received only one short reply. Apparently, she's not feeling well, and won't be returning for some time. It sounds strange to me; I hope it's not too serious. We really miss her here. _

_As for you, you complete ASS RONALD WEASLEY! I WILL CERTAINLY HIT YOU FOR THIS ONCE THE WAR IS OVER, YOU CAN BE SURE OF THAT! You'll be lucky if your mother doesn't skin you alive if she ever finds out! And Harry and Draco I am very disappointed in you! You were all supposed to keep me informed about _everything_ that happens! From now on, leave nothing out, even if you think it will spare me worry and pain, I need to know what's happening outside these walls. _

_Keep me updated and write back as soon as you can. I miss you all very much. Stay safe, be brave. _

_My love – Hermione _

_Once upon a time, there were three brothers…._

* * *

Bellatrix couldn't concentrate. She sat alone in her sitting room trying to correct third-year papers on Red Caps but all she could do was think of Hermione. It had been nearly a week without seeing her, but it was getting no easier to forget her. She avoided the girl everywhere to be sure she did nothing rash, but several times, she'd found herself halfway to the Gryffindor common room in the middle of the night before coming to her senses.

Her little witch didn't make it any easier on her, either. Hermione had left her letters under her door, had students pass in scrolls to her during class, kept showing up in the Great Hall at odd hours to catch her… it was maddening. And heartbreaking. And now… it was like her room had been infused with the witchling's scent. The sweet, aromatic perfumes of lilac and vanilla; the heavy, thick, intoxicating scent of wine, and the light purity of new-fallen snow fogged her brain.

Bella was never one to get attached. There'd been a fling here and there over the years but never… this. The physical pain Hermione's absence caused her; the way Bella seemed to depend on the softness of the girl's body for a good night's sleep. The girl was like a drug – more addictive than Firewhiskey and Bella was the addict.

_Why did you push her out?_

_I had to… it's safer… smarter…_

_But you were HAPPY! For the first time since Andy; since Mother, you were happy! _

_I would have ruined her life. I'm poison. I'd poison her life; I can't risk her future. _

_And what if there is no future? There's a war out there, remember? Who knows if either of you will survive the year?_

_She's good and smart. She'll survive. _

_She's the Golden Girl. A prime target. _

_In the spotlight…_

_She wants you. _

_She'll get over me. _

_Liar. _

Bella threw down her quill and pushed up and away from the table. The bottle of whiskey sat on the counter, beckoning her with dark allure and the promise of forgetfulness.

The first sip burned. The second felt like a warm fire on a cold winter's night. The third began to lose its taste and the fourth went down smooth like pumpkin juice. A second glass and a third were soon poured.

Bellatrix slumped into her leather sofa and watched the flames dance merrily in the hearth. She hated those happy flames doing their little happy dance while she sat there miserable.

_Something to do, something to do… _perhaps she should go bother the Slytherins down in their dungeons? Stalk the halls for students out of bed? Visit _her?_

_NO! _

Boredom and misery had often been her bedfellows but her active mind could not abide them, even in her youth. This had driven her to rash and often reckless behaviour – reckless behaviour she had not outgrown.

Jumping up, Bella quickly grabbed her cloak, stormed out of her quarters, and flew through the halls of the castle like a Wraith from Muggle fantasy novels and mythology. Bellatrix had often wondered if J. R. R. Tolkien had been a wizard – or if he knew of them. His description of Wraiths matched eerily with that of Dementors. Although it was possible he simply used the mythology of the Wraith – which was based off of Dementors to construct the demons in his novels. Similar thoughts followed Bella through the castle and over the school grounds. Lost in thought, Bella was unaware of where she was headed until she reached her destination.

The darkness of the forest greeted her like an old friend. How many nights had she spent out here in her youth? Too many to remember each one individually, that was for sure.

Through the trees, she spied the warm glow of Hagrid's cabin. Admittedly, she had a soft spot in her heart for the child-like giant. He kindly showed her how to approach Thestrals while in her sixth year and arranged for an audience with the centaurs once she became a professor. Bella was now one of the only humans with the unrestricted freedom to wander the forest and gather her herbs.

The deeper she explored, the deeper the shivers ran through her. It had been a while since she'd gone for a long walk. With a Silencing Charm cast, she slipped through the trees like a shadow.

A twig snapping to her right had the curved wand in her hand twitch. A Hippogriff stood not far from her, staring at her with large, intelligent yellow eyes.

Buckbeak. Well, now it was Witherwings since Sirius's death and the beast's return to Hogwarts. She bowed low to the noble creature, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement. She approached slowly, with a steady hand raised and her head held high. Being too submissive was just as bad as being disrespectful in her book.

The soft feathers of the creature's head rivalled her silky bedsheets. Bella's hand passed down his neck, feeling the gradual transition from feathers to a horse's coat. His wings shivered and he arched his neck like a sweet puppy.

"It's been a while since you've had some attention, eh, boy?" Bella crooned to the animal, a small smile playing over her red lips. Their kinship through loneliness struck her. How awful to be stuck here with no one around, cut off from those he missed. She realised Buckbeak might just be in as much need of a distraction as herself from their mutual solitude.

An idea in mind, Bella swung herself up onto the creature's back, grinning madly. She held tight around his large neck and squeezed her thighs and off they went. Buckbeak picked up speed and Bella's heartbeat quickened.

They soared. Breaking through the topmost branches, Bella's breath was stolen from her lungs by the shine of the snow-covered grounds. The castle resembled something she read in a book once – magical kingdom trapped in an eternal winter by a wicked witch.

The bitter wind bit deep into the exposed skin of her hands and face. Her hair and cloak swam in the air behind her, billowing like inky smoke.

Below, Bella watched their shadows race them along the ground. Above, the full moon struggled to show itself through the thick cloud-cover but enough moon rays escaped to light the night. Thin fingers of moonlight played over the surface of the icy water of Black Lake, enchanting the black water to appear silver.

_This is freedom, _she thought as she breathed deeply. The chill burned her lungs and she felt alive. Straightening her back, she stretched out her arms on either side like her own set of wings. Her heart shouted in exhilaration; the thrill had her blood pumping. _I should become an Animagus. Hopefully I'd have wings. _

Gently, Bella pushed the beast's head forward, guiding him back towards the forest. Hippogriffs may be more noble creatures, but Thestrals were infinitely more graceful, she noticed with a slight feeling of apprehension as they quickly approached the frozen ground.

They touched down firmly; bits of snow, dirt, and undergrowth sent flying with the impact of their landing.

Cheeks flushed with cold and elation, Bella hopped off Buckbeak's back and cooed appreciatively; praising him for the magnificent joy ride. The creature's hide was warm to her touch and his muscles quivered from the exertion. He chirped back at her, like an eagle speaking to its young. He enjoyed the ride as much as she had.

Bella's eyes scanned the trees. They were in a much deeper and darker part of the forest; someplace she didn't know as well. Somewhere off in the distance, a werewolf howled and another answered. Then another… and another. Bellatrix frowned. Werewolves, though they answered the call of their own kind, were not often pack animals in wolf form and rarely traveled in groups larger than two or three.

Glowing, menacing yellow orbs suddenly appeared out of the darkness floating eerily with their bodies turned into shadow by the mist that gathered before dawn. One, two, three, four, five… six… seven pairs watched her. From the ominous gloom, one werewolf stood out amongst the others. Larger and stronger than the rest, it was obvious this specimen was the alpha.

Defiantly, Bella stared into the beastly yellow eyes. With faith in her own magic and comforted by Buckbeak's strong presence at her side, Bella watched as the pack surrounded them in the small clearing. There was something… odd about the way the large one stared back.

Werewolves retained very little to absolutely no human traits while in wolf form, but these wolves seemed to be… studying her. Intimidating her. Sending her a warning. Their technique approached a human level of sadistic behaviour, intending to frighten her.

_How this possible, _she though as a chill seeped into her bones. Then her blood turned to ice. _Wolfsbane Potion. This is not animal behaviour. They're aware… and they're stalking. _

Sensing her growing trepidation, the alpha bared his long, sickly yellow teeth. Not in a snarl, but in a sinister, wolf grin.

Bellatrix understood. _Voldemort's has obedient, self-aware werewolves. His own personal battalion of instinctively vicious, bloodthirsty monsters. _

In the blink of an eye, Bellatrix was once again straddling the Hippogriff. The wolves howled and snarled and snapped as the two tore off on the ground. The werewolves followed their shrinking shadow as they quickly gained altitude. Bella's heart raced, however, not from the exhilaration of the flight.

With a slight tug to his feathers, Bellatrix steered the magnificent creature back towards the castle. She had to warn Hagrid, him being on the edge of the forest. She had to warn Minerva. She had to warn Poppey to prep for potential bite victims if they ever – Morgana forbid it – ever got a hold of a student.

For the first time since Minerva had forbade their relationship, Bellatrix briefly forgot about her aching heart. Now, her loneliness and heartache was replaced with fear.


	32. Chapter 32

Hermione watched Bellatrix as the witch strode down the corridor, her pace overflowing with her innate pride and power and punctuated with the sharp _click _of her heels. It made Hermione's heart and stomach flutter with longing. _It's been so long… has she forgotten? Has she lost all her feelings for me? Has she really moved on? _Weeks had passed since their breakup and Hermione was beginning to lose hope that she could convince Bellatrix that their separation was a mistake.

Black hair fell in erratic, glossy curls down the straight back as the dark witch's heels continued clicking forcibly upon the stone floor, as if pounding each one back in its place beneath her. Black eyes held a dark, faraway look, yet glinted with the woman's fire each time the woman passed a brightly burning torch. Red lips were pursed in their usual smirk and long-fingered hands fiddled by her sides, as though she were itching to hold the walnut wand she kept tucked away in her sleeve when not in use.

As if sensing the girl's eyes on her, Bella's gaze wandered suspiciously around searching for the one causing the goosebumps on her back of her neck.

Quick as a rabbit, Hermione ducked behind a corner, holding her book close to her chest, and stayed mute until she heard the loud footsteps disappear into the distance. Safe in her hiding place, Hermione enjoyed a private moment to smile. _Bellatrix walks loudly when she wants to intimidate… when she wants to go unnoticed, she's as silent as a ghost. _

February was speeding by and the two witches had yet to reconcile, or to even discuss their situation. Bella still evaded her everywhere. Frustration built steadily inside of Hermione's heart and she felt that soon it would overflow and she would do something incredibly foolish.

Sullen and weighted down, Hermione trudged up to her room. She passed all the chattering voices in the common room and ignored all the greetings from friends and DA members. Closing her sound-proof door firmly behind her, the brunette slumped against the enchanted wood and felt the tears build in her eyes.

_Enough, Granger! Be strong, soon this will be resolved; one way or another. _

Dropping her bag on her neatly made bed, Hermione stood in front of her desk, her half-finished essay for McGonagall's alternative Defense Against the Dark Arts class open and waiting for her quill. The anger Hermione fought against daily began to bubble furiously beneath her calm exterior.

_If McGonagall hadn't found us, we'd still be happy, _Hermione thought bitterly, glaring at the roll of parchment. _This is all her fault. She had no business… she had no right… we were happy! _

An animal growl tore passed her lips and Hermione flinched internally, startled by the ferocity of her own emotions. _And above it all to take me out of her class and to have me write stupid essays about subjects I already know? It's… insulting! It's completely unfair! _

Now in a full rage, Hermione grabbed the essay in a strong fist and flung her door open, startling a couple second-years that had been passing on the stairs. Rushing down the staircase, Hermione knew exactly what she was going to do. _I am no longer some perfect little student who will obey every command simply because a professor asked! I refuse not to stand! I will fight!_

Blood turned to venom in her veins and her eyes saw red. Hermione threw the partial essay onto the merrily burning fire and watch with satisfaction as the flames ate away at her work and spit back the leftover ash.

_No more perfect little Hermione. Come tomorrow, I'm taking action. It's time to stop being a coward and to fight for what I want and what I believe in._

* * *

Slamming her door shut behind her, Bellatrix let loose an ear-piercing shriek of horrid frustration and… _feelings. _ She knew that feeling she had in the hall. Hermione had been nearby, watching her; Bella knew it. Grabbing a vase of green, leafy plants, Bella hurled it against the wall. The sound it made as it shattered was comforting and familiar – like a song she felt playing on repeat inside her heart.

_This is for the best though… she'll have a better life…_

_And your life will be utter shit._

_I'll get over it. Eventually. _

_Liar. _

Bella grabbed a fist-full of her hair, nails digging deep into her scalp as if she could physically extract that know-it-all voice inside her head and beat it to death with her bare hands and then hex it into oblivion.

Not only could she not escape the thought of the young witch, her room had seemed to permanently adopt the girl's unique smell – just to make matters worse! It infuriated her; it left her feeling lonely; it made her miss the girl terribly! She felt as if she were going mad.

_Maybe I am finally turning into the Mad Witch they believed me to be. Mad, Mad Bellatrix Black._

* * *

The next morning found Hermione in a fitful and restless mood. Burning her essay as an act of rebellion was a good first step. It made her feel empowered and brave – a real Gryffindor act of defiance!

She sat quietly in Transfiguration class later that day, glowering at the blackboard. Neville frequently cast worried looks her way from the corner of his eye. Her notebook laid untouched and her quill dry on the desk in front of her. Trapped in her dark thoughts, class ended and pulled the witch abruptly from her disquieted mind. Without a word to anyone, she packed her bag and made to leave the class without acknowledgement to the professor, but was halted by a crisp call.

"Miss Granger, a moment, please?"

Swallowing her irritation, Hermione turned back and approached the professor's desk and stood with a spine of steel. "Yes?"

"I did not see your essay on Inferi on my desk at the beginning of class," Professor McGonagall said as she sorted through various other papers. "May I have it now, please?"

"I didn't write it."

The professor's hands nearly dropped a large, weighty tome in shock and she looked up, disbelief clear in her bright green eyes before she understood the look in Hermione's normally sweet, eager-to-please face.

"Miss Granger, your protests will not weaken my resolve – I will not change my mind," she asserted disapprovingly. Hermione bristled at the tone – her good-student nature fighting to plead for a second chance – but her anger won out and she refused to waver. "Your childish behavior is shocking and I am very disappointed in you."

Glaring back at the revered professor, Hermione spoke the words she had practiced earlier that morning in the mirror, preparing herself for such an encounter from the strict professor. "You took away my right to love the person I chose; you took something I loved away from me. You will not get anything else from me." Turning on her heel, Hermione stomped out of the room, all but running from the professor's expression, half expecting the woman to yell after her, throwing the promise of detentions. Hermione felt… unnerved when she made it out of the class without hearing a single word uttered behind her.

Racing through the halls, Hermione found her feet taking her down the DADA corridor. Young third-years were still spilling from the classroom, chattering amongst themselves about the newest rumour that there was a large pack of werewolves sneaking around just inside the forest. They hardly payed any attention to her as she passed. Hermione stood sentinel outside the large doors to the classroom until she was certain every student had left and silently slipped inside and closed the door behind her before the next class could interrupt. _I guess McGonagall trusted me enough to take down the wards keeping me from entering the classroom… _

At the front of the class, Bella had her back turned to the door as she prepared for her next lesson. A bittersweet smile tugged at Hermione's lips while she watched the woman's hips sway as she paced around her desk sorting papers, pilling books, erasing the chalkboard – magically, of course.

With a hard swallow, Hermione cleared her throat and clenched her shaking hands. All the power fuelled by her anger at McGonagall now evaporated upon the sight of Bellatrix, and all she felt now was the all-consuming emptiness of not being able to hold the woman she loved close to her.

Looking up from a stack of essays, and expecting to see one of her third-years, Bella blinked and stared, unmoving, at the girl before her. She had seen the girl so many times in her mind's eye that it took a moment for her to realize that Hermione _actually _was standing in front of her. "What are you doing here, Granger?" She tried her best to sound indifferent to the girl's sudden visit, but she felt ashamed when her voice cracked slightly at the end on the girl's name.

Hermione's eyes softened and a sad smile played over her lips. She heard the falter; she saw the sleepless expression and was certain that if she removed the witch's glamour, she'd find purple circles beneath those deep, dark pools filled with emotion. "You seem tired… have you been sleeping well?" the young witch tried to ask casually.

"That's none of your business," Bellatrix spat back coldly, her eyes dropping back to the essays in her hands.

"Bella –" Hermione tried appealing to the witch's softer side, endearing herself to the woman as she approached the front of the class.

"It's _Professor Black_ to you unless you want a detention with Professor McGonagall!"

Hurt struck her chest like a knife through the heart and she flinched as though she'd been slapped. "Very well, _Professor," _she emphasized with as much bite as she could muster. She tried not to let the pain show, tried to ignore the sting – but it was like ignoring a direct hit from a Stinging Jinx. Calling to mind why she was there, she felt purpose flow through her veins once more, strengthening her courage to say what she needed to say. "You needn't be afraid of the rules," she began softly. "You're Bellatrix Black! Why are you letting old, stupid rules keep you from being happy?"

"What makes you think I'm not happy?" the witch snapped; chin held high as she peered down her nose full of aristocratic arrogance. "I had my fun and now you're a complication; a nuisance."

The burning behind Hermione's eyes was becoming too painful to ignore and she felt the tears begin to pool. Her bottom lip quivered. She bit down hard. _She's pushing me away because she's afraid. Remember what Sipsey said – bad dreams, drinking, anger… she can barely spend any time in her room anymore… _

Trapping dark eyes with her own, Hermione notched an arrow to take a shot in the dark. She hoped it worked; it had to be true! "Then why does the Amortentia in your chambers smell like me?" Wiping a single tear from her cheek, Hermione rushed from the room and pulled the doors closed behind her, leaving Bella with this new knowledge of the love potion. Safe in the hall, she jumped as she heard something heavy meet its death and shatter to a thousand pieces on the other side of the thick, wooden doors.

* * *

_**Hermione, we're going to visit the Lovegood house tomorrow. It's been decided. We need to find out what this symbol means. I KNOW it's important… we'll also check in on Luna while we're there. It's odd that she hasn't been back to school yet, but if her father says she's sick, then I won't question him until I know differently. **_

_**It's bloody cold out here, but we're surviving – mostly thanks to the warming enchantments you cast on the tent (we owe you so much when we get back!). Ron's been trying to stay positive since his return and has even tried pitching in more ideas. When I said I wanted to visit Lovegood, he was on board right away (it's almost annoying, but he's even started calling Draco by his first name now). **_

_**Hopefully Lovegood will be able to give us another clue as to what we should look for. Draco's been trying to work on a plan to get into Gringott's, but he's got nothing yet. The security is too tight. Even getting down to his own vault is risky since he left the Death Eaters, so we're not sure what we're going to do. Any ideas?**_

_**We've all been listening to Lee's radio station every night. Have you? It's comforting to hear a few old voices. Fred and George were on a few weeks ago, and I think Ron shed a tear. **_

_**We miss you lots, Hermione. We all hope we'll see you soon. Our love – Harry, Ron & Draco **_

Passing a hand down her face, Hermione felt shame creep into her heart. She'd been neglecting so much since she started seeing Bellatrix, and even more since their breakup. She'd heard Ginny mention the radio station but had never stayed around in the common to room listen.

_Tomorrow's a new day, _she told herself, pulling the blankets around her shoulders and settling down for the night. _Tomorrow, I'll be back and I'll start being the leader they all depend on me to be. Tomorrow, there will be more action; no more cowardice. I _will _fix things with Bella – Bella or Professor Black… tomorrow will tell. _


	33. Chapter 33

Bellatrix sat on the floor of her sitting room in a state of pure vexation. Around her, furniture, books, clothes, and most of her possessions were strewn about or broken on the floor. It looked like someone had completely ransacked her home. It was a disaster. Her hair was in just as much disarray as her chambers and she still wore the same robes as the night before. She had spent far too many hours sitting on the cold wooden floor staring at the same tiny object, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

In her hand, Bella held a tiny vial of sparkling pink potion. _Amortentia. The little witch wasn't lying… what the fuck does this mean? _She brought the small, glass container up to her nose and inhaled deeply, and not for the first time that night, was immediately engulfed by the scent of lilac and vanilla that was purely Hermione. Her heart skipped a beat and her entire being ached with a powerful yearning. _Does this mean I truly love the girl? Can I actually _love?

After Hermione had left her classroom with tears in her eyes, and after Bellatrix had smashed a hinkypunk skull against the closed door, the professor had fled to her chambers in search of the love potion.

Finally, after an hour of tearing things apart searching, she found it hidden behind an old, dusty copy of _Rules and Regulations of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _She had not touched the book since Umbridge's tenure in the school, and then only to place it on the absolute top of her bookshelf, where it was certain to be out of sight and out of mind.

_Clearly, someone thought this was an ironic hiding place. _

Bella had yet to figure out how Hermione had hidden the bottle in her room, but she was beginning to suspect that the young witch may have had help from a certain impish elf who was too kind hearted and loyal for her own good.

Once more, Bellatrix brought the vial to her nose and breathed in the smell of Hermione's hair, and nearly threw it across the room as a bolt of fury shot through her. _How dare she do this to me? Does she not understand that this is just as equally difficult for me?_!

_Why would she? You pretended to be done with her. You called her a complication, a nuisance. _

_Shut up!_

_Why? Because you know I'm right and you know it's all your fault if you've lost her for good? You have no one to blame but yourself, Bella. You sabotaged your own happiness because of the words of a stuffy old witch._

_I thought it would be better for her…_

_You were scared._

_No! Only… perhaps… but that doesn't change the fact that this could ruin her life!_

_She. Does. Not. Care! _You _ruined her happiness when you ended the relationship. You saw her face. You saw it in her eyes. She was broken. _

_Not entirely… there was still that annoying Gryffindor spark of defiance in her eyes. I'm not altogether surprised she thought up a plan like this. _

_And not altogether disappointed. _

_What?_

_You need excuses, Bella. You love her. There's the excuse. Now. Get. Her. _BACK!

_Does she even want me back?_

_You idiot! You're just as stupid as a first-year, only even more stupid because you choose to ignore what's right in front of you! She loves you, you love her – go get her, you coward! Are you a Black or are you not? _

Morning light began to shine through the open window and soon the entire sitting room was bathed in the warm, yellow glow of dawn. Staring out at the chilly blue sky, Bellatrix contemplated her options. She could, of course, run to the girl and beg for forgiveness. The second that thought entered her mind, however, she banished it far, far away. She was a _Black, _after all. She didn't _beg! _With a loud sigh, she fell backward onto the floor with her mass of black curls splayed around her head like a dark halo.

Turning her head to the side and pressing her cheek against the frigid floor, she watched the Amortentia swirl hypnotically in the glass vial.

_I don't know how, but it will get you back, my little dove. You can count on it._

* * *

"Hermione! Did you see this? I just got last week's edition… this is unbelievable…" Ginny began rambling before Hermione had the chance to sit down to breakfast or utter a greeting to her friends.

"It's horrible, Hermione. This may be why she hasn't come back…" Neville mumbled forlornly, his face pale and his eyes dark with grief.

"What are you talking about? Who?" Hermione questioned as she sat opposite the two other Gryffindors. Accepting the red and black magazine from Ginny's offered hand, Hermione struggled to comprehend what was before her eyes – what her friends were trying to tell her. Her mind refused at first to acknowledge what her eyes saw clearly in black and white. They were right. It was unbelievably horrible.

It was the cover of last week's edition of _The Quibbler_. Since the beginning of the war, the Lovegoods' magazine had been the voice of unwavering support for Harry and the only piece of media not clouded by Ministry and Death Eater propaganda. Until now, that is.

The cover, instead of being a brightly lit image of some possibly existing magical creature, showed the most popular poster plastered all around the Wizarding World. _Harry Potter: Undesirable N__ᵒ__1, _it read, with Harry's solemn picture front and centre.

"Holy Merlin, what is this?" she gasped, flipping through the pages. Inside, it was all the same rubbish they had been seeing in the _Prophet _for years.

"I suppose that Mr. Lovegood has changed his allegiance," Ginny muttered darkly, slumping headfirst to the table.

"No, it's impossible! I refuse to believe this defection… it's simply _impossible!" _

"The proof is there, 'Mione, right there in black and white," Neville tried to reason with her denial.

"He – he must have been forced! And he kept Luna with him so no one could use her as leverage while she was here at school!"

"'Mione… we'd all like to believe it but…" Neville's eyes fell as he struggled with the news himself. Hermione understood he felt this more personally than they did. He and Luna had developed a deeper bond this year, and Hermione was more than certain that the young man fancied the eccentric witch. "You know what, Ginny, it could be possible. The Death Eaters could be blackmailing Lovegood into this to try and turn as many people against Harry as possible. Maybe Luna and her father _aren't _traitors."

"It's a lovely thought, Nev, but really –"

"No, I think Hermione's right; we shouldn't assume – there could be more here than what we're seeing."

Hermione coughed suddenly on her pumpkin juice and spewed it all over the table – Ginny exclaimed loudly and jumped away while shooting her a dirty look. "What the bloody hell was that about?!"

"The boys! They were headed to the Lovegoods'… they could be headed into a trap!" Jumping from the table, Hermione bolted from the Great Hall as though a banshee was after her. After a second's hesitation, the two flabbergasted Gryffindors chased after her, only to reach Hermione's room in time to have the witch slam her bedroom door in their faces.

_DON'T GO TO THE LOVEGOODS'! _THE QUIBBLER_ HAS TURNED, IT COULD BE A TRAP! HARRY DON'T GO! LOVEGOOD MIGHT BE BEING BLACKMAILED… HE MIGHT GIVE YOU UP TO VOLDEMORT! _

The brunette wrote frantically, her writing almost illegible, but she knew it was all in vain. No one would check the journal before they visited Mr. Lovegood. Hermione could only hope they were smart enough to sense the trap and escape safely as soon as they could. With a wave of her wand, the words disappeared and she slid the seemingly empty journal back into her trunk and opened her door to find her friends waiting none too patiently for her.

"I tried to warn them, but I think I was too late. Hopefully, they escape unharmed…" she explained. Her hands felt sweaty and her heart raced quick as a hummingbird's. Such a sudden rush of adrenalin so early in the morning; and now to sit for hours in class imagining the worst!

"Don't worry, Harry's good at getting himself out of trouble, I'm sure they'll be fine!" Neville said, his optimism genuine. For his pure, unwavering faith in their friend, Hermione could have kissed him. Ginny tried to nod in agreement, but her anxiety and fear for her boyfriend and brother showed too fiercely in her eyes.

Together, the three of them descended through the common room and left for their classes, Ginny off to Muggle Studies and Hermione and Neville to Potions.

All through class, Hermione became more and more distracted. Neville did his best to keep her on task, but that in itself was more difficult than brewing the day's assignment. Aside from worry for her friends, a plan began forming in the front of her mind, compromising the fullest of her attention. While she could do nothing to save her friends, there was a matter closer to home that she could control. Her adrenalin rush made her bold – finally bold enough to do what she had wanted to for so long.

The day passed agonisingly slow – to the point Hermione was ready to hex someone for a meagre distraction and some excitement. Beneath her desk in Charms class, her leg bounced steadily, much to the annoyance of her seatmate, but Neville said nothing, believing that Hermione's agitation was solely due to her concern for Harry and Ron.

Finally, their last class of the day – Transfiguration – was in session and Hermione could not manage sit still any longer. She had absolutely no desire to take part in _this _lesson with _her _of all professors, so when it came time to return their transfigured stone into lead, Hermione unceremoniously dropped the plain rock onto McGonagall's desk. It made a satisfying _thunk _on the polished wood surface and caused the stately woman to jump in her seat.

"Miss Granger, what is the meaning of this?"

"It's my assignment, Professor," the student answered plainly.

With flaring nostrils and lips constricted into a tight, bloodless purse, the professor looked up furiously at the young witch. "We will discuss this in detention, Miss Granger. Seven o'clock sharp this evening or I shall be forced to take more drastic measures."

With a curt nod, Hermione left the class, fully prepared for her detention.

* * *

The sound of McGonagall's quill scratching over parchment was like nails on a chalkboard to the young witch. For her detention, Hermione had been instructed to re-transfigure all the first-years' needles back into matchsticks and then would be given another mundane task to complete, and then most likely another; just as many as it took for the professor to finish preaching her to her.

"I understand your anger, Miss Granger, I truly do," the professor said for what seemed to be the millionth time, "but I implore you to understand that I did this for _you_."

With her back to the professor, Hermione's teeth clenched, her shoulders tightened, and her hand gripped her wand until her knuckles were white as bone. She refused to respond to the patronizing tone of the preacher.

"Hermione," now, the professor's voice softened, like a mother trying to reason with a stubborn child, "I understand that you care for her and I have no doubt that she cares for you in return. But Professor Black – Bellatrix – her life has not been easy. It may not be simple to understand-"

"I understand completely, Professor," the witch interrupted suddenly.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Granger?"

"I know to what you're referring. I know what happened to her mother and to her sister."

Silence answered Hermione's declaration. Hermione turned to see McGonagall watching her with a curious eye. "She told you?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then you must also understand that she does not love or trust easily and-"

"Professor, just how well do you know Bella? You're right – she does not trust easily, but she trusted _me! She _was the one to tell me her story. We chose this to explore our feelings for each other and you took it from us before you understood how deeply our connection went!" Blood flowed through Hermione's face, heating her with a fire that had been burning for weeks.

"Miss Granger," to give the professor credit, she had the humility to look slightly uncertain and mournful, "you are still her student. No matter the connection, your relationship cannot be permitted."

"I'm not her student anymore, am I, Professor? You yourself saw to that."

"Technically-"

"Technically, Professor, _you _provided us with the solution to the only dilemma facing our relationship! Now that this ethical breach has been resolved, there truly is nothing standing in the way-"

Shooting up suddenly from behind her desk, McGonagall leaned over, gazing earnestly at the witch, hands flat on her desk. "Hermione, think clearly! She is twice your age!"

"What is age to witches and wizards who live hundreds of years?" Hermione shouted, her lips pulling back from her teeth in her first full smile in such a long time. "Professor, you're grasping at straws now. There is no reason why Bella and I cannot be together. I _know _you understand what it's like to love another so deeply that it transcends all the typical rules of an institution."

For a moment, the professor stared back, uncomprehending of what exactly Hermione was insinuating. When she finally did, a crimson blush engulfed her face and she began sputtering nonsensically. "What? Excuse… you… I… but…"

"Professor, I love Bellatrix."

"And you're positive she feels the same way in regards to you?" McGonagall asked, slowly falling back into her seat, her entire being at war with itself. She was a fair woman and ruled her life by logic, composure, and a deep respect for the rules. But here before her was an incredibly impassioned young witch who had out-logic-ed her rules and principles. It was true, she knew what it was like to love on the opposite side of the rules, but surely, she and Poppy were not comparable to Bellatrix and a student. Were they?

"I would like the chance for her to decide that without interference, Professor."

Removing her spectacles and pinching the bridge of her nose, McGonagall fought the headache that was steadily forming behind her eyes. She lifted her gaze back to her student – her most talented and promising student. She could practically hear her heart calling her a stuffy, unsentimental old hag for having tried to keep these two lovers apart. Truthfully, she was a romantic at heart; Poppy was just the only one who knew it. Soft brown eyes begged the professor. However, McGonagall doubted Hermione would obey her demands if she disallowed the relationship yet again. With a deep sigh that seemed to hold all her years and woes of being a teacher of young, strong-willed, and hot-headed students, McGonagall felt her resolve dissolve. "Do not make me regret this," she said.

The smile that bloomed over Hermione's face was more radiant than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined. Grinning madly, the girl ran with a new skip in her step from the classroom, presumably right to Bellatrix.

Alone, Minerva did not fight the soft smile that formed over her thin lips. She hadn't the slightest clue as to what Bellatrix did to deserve the devotion of such a brilliant young woman, but she hoped to Merlin that the stubborn witch didn't screw it up.

_At least now I know for sure that the girl will complete her homework… _


	34. Chapter 34

Bella jumped like a skittish cat at the sound of a loud knock resonating through her chambers. She growled and ignored the incessant pounding on her door, burrowing deeper into the leather sofa and clutching her Firewhiskey to her chest.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Bellatrix waited impatiently for whoever was out there to give up and leave.

They didn't.

Finishing the whiskey in one gulp, Bellatrix leaped up from the sofa and stomped barefooted to the door. Wand at the ready to hex the bastard on the other side, Bella wrenched the door open and felt her heart drop deep into her stomach.

Hermione stood inches from her; a brilliant, beautiful grin spread over her sweet, pink lips.

Bella stumbled back, hand clutching the door to keep her from lunging to take the girl in her arms. Remembering herself, Bellatrix pulled herself up to her full height and looked down at the girl with impassive eyes. "What do you want, Granger?"

_You know exactly what she wants, idiot. She wants YOU!_

"Bella," the girl panted in excitement, stepping into the room and peeling Bella's hand from the door. The smile was still just as bright, but Hermione's eyes held slight uncertainty. She passed her thumb over Bella's knuckles and was reassured when the older witch didn't pull away.

"What do you want?" Bella asked again, her voice losing its hard edge.

"I want to talk. I just had a… lively conversation with Professor McGonagall and… Bella, I convinced her that we should be allowed to be together!"

"You… what?" _She convinced Minerva? How the fuck did she do that? _

"Bella… I need to know how you feel. I need to know if you feel the same way I do, or if you really want our relationship to be over. Just know that no one and nothing is standing in our way. Not McGonagall, not the rules… Bella, if you… if you love me, we can do this!"

Pulling away from the young Gryffindor, Bellatrix tripped back to the couch and fell heavily. _WHAT ARE YOU DOING, IDIOT? Take her back! SHE CAME TO YOU! _

_Is this what I want? Is this what's best for the both of us? _

_You vowed to get her back and now she's here on a silver platter – JUST FUCKING KISS HER! _

She looked up to see warm eyes the colour of honey staring back at her, and a beautiful face framed by a thick mane of brown curls. What a sight; one she had been seeing in her dreams every night for over a month.

_Fuck it. _

Surging forward, Bellatrix took the youthful face between her hands captured pink lips in a searing kiss. By the time the two parted for air, Hermione was seated in Bella's lap, their arms tangled around each other.

"So," Hermione whispered against red lips. "What do you say?"

Dark eyes drank in the sight of the young witch, with her tousled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and sparkling eyes. Her hands held the girl's waist and they itched to feel the softness of the girl's skin.

"How did you get the Amortentia in my room?" Bella asked as her fingers played with the hem of Hermione's uniform.

Brown eyes widened in surprise. Obviously, she had not expected a question. "I, uh, had help."

One long fingered hand lifted to trace Hermione's jawline and down her slim neck. She felt the girl's pulse quicken beneath her fingertips and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Hermione," she sighed and rested their foreheads together. "Why on earth would you do this to yourself? Why would you pick _me?" _

Capturing the hand that traced her collarbone, Hermione lifted it to kiss the well-manicured fingertips. "Because I love you, Bella. I know that. And… Bella I need to know if I'm fighting for something or just… wasting my time." The girl's voice dropped lower and lower the longer she spoke, and her words ended in a low whisper, as though she was afraid that Bellatrix would choose the out she was offering.

_Do I want the out? Do I want this?_

_WHY ARE YOU STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS? Look at her. She's the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to you. Think you'll ever find someone like her again? You were nearly pushed into a loveless union with Rodolphus and you flat out refused, consequences be damned. And here you are, completely mad about this beautiful, intelligent, strong, mesmerizing creature and now you're the one who's pushing _away _from happiness. After this, no more chances. After this, there won't be anyone. Choose. Hermione, or loneliness. Tick tock. _

The annoying voice in her head – the impulsive one; the passionate, dark, selfish part of her… it was right.

Curling a finger under Hermione's chin, Bella lifted the girl's face so she could gaze adoringly into those warm brown eyes. "I love you, Hermione," she whispered, so soft, so low, like a secret prayer or a wish that might not come true if she spoke it too loud. The instant the words left her lips, her mouth split into a large, radiant smile that glowed more brightly than _Lumos. _

Hermione stared unbelieving at her lover for a few seconds, the gears in her mind turning fervently to comprehend what the witch had just uttered. The second the words clicked, a light shone out behind Hermione's eyes, as if the sun itself was trapped inside her soul and her mortal body could not contain its light.

With a laugh that was half sob, half elation, she threw her arms around Bella's neck and held tightly to the witch, who returned the embrace just as fiercely around her slim waist.

Lips grazed across jawlines and cheekbones in search of each other. When they met, they were two adventurers who had just traveled across the desert without water, and had finally come across an oasis. They drank each other in. Hands grasped at clothes, at skin, at anything they could reach until there was only skin left and every article of clothing was lost to the floor and darkness around the sofa.

Grasping for her wand that had been pushed between the cushions, Bella flicked it towards the dead hearth and it roared to life with a brilliant burst of flame. Gently, she lowered herself and Hermione onto the plush rug she kept right in front of her fireplace.

Pinning the girl against the floor, Bella lifted herself up on her elbows to look down at her lover. Hermione's eyes glinted hypnotically in the firelight and shadows played games and danced over her naked, panting torso. "Love me, Bella," she whispered pleadingly as she gazed up at the dark witch with nothing but pure love and devotion in her eyes. "Love me deeply."

"Only if you promise to love me back. Forever." Bella dipped her head to nip at the girl's collarbone and felt Hermione shiver expectantly, which sent a tidal wave of arousal cascading through Bella's body.

"Always."

With one hand tangled in thick brown hair, the second slipped between their two bodies to glide over the young witch's sex before delving deep into the wet, welcoming abyss. Hermione moaned and clawed at Bella's back, and arched up as one, two, three talented fingers twisted and played her like an instrument. Bella knew exactly which song she wanted to hear pour from her little witch's lips, and she played it beautifully. She latched onto a pale neck, made her dark mark, and prepared herself for the concert she had missed for far too long.

Pushing and receding, twisting and bending, and with a final flick to a swollen bundle of nerves, the young Gryffindor broke apart as magical waves of pleasure crashed through her; had her screaming Bella's name and left her soaked in sweat and panting heavily on the floor beneath her lover.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, little dove."

"And I'm going to show you how much. All night long." Her three final words her accentuated with three hot, open mouthed kisses on Bella's neck and each breast. In a sudden flash of movement, Bella was on her back, looking up with a shocked expression at the grinning young witch. Hermione lowered her mouth to press four more open mouthed kisses in the valley between Bella's breasts, on her stomach and on each protruding hipbone. On the last, her teeth nicked the heated flesh and Bellatrix nearly jumped out of her skin as a bolt of pure desire rocketed down her spine. She gasped. Through heavy lidded eyes, she watched Hermione's head dip lower and her eyes squeezed shut as the girl showed her _exactly _how much she loved her. Hands gripping the rug, Bella's back rose high off the floor as Hermione's tongue toyed with her aroused clit and teased her lubed opening. The greedy witch lapped up every ounce that left Bella and soon the professor had her hands tangled back in the girl's hair as a silent scream left her lips and her body shook with the power of her orgasm, the pleasure bordering on pain. _Oh, this little siren! _

Before Bella had time to compose herself, Hermione was on her again, her tongue leaving wet trails over the mounds of her breasts and sucked each hardened nipple into her mouth in turn. While her mouth was occupied, one hand twined the witches' fingers together and the second snaked down and two fingers quickly slithered into the older Slytherin.

Bella's hips bucked in time with Hermione's thrusts and Bellatrix was momentarily amazed at how quickly the young witch had become a very, _very _apt love maker. Too soon, Bella came again. Her muscles ached deliciously and she held her lover close to her chest and tasted herself on the girl's tongue as she kissed her passionately.

The two witches fell asleep in that position some time later – Hermione laying half on top of Bella, arms entwined around each other and the heat of the fire keeping them warm throughout the night.

* * *

Morning light streamed through the crack in the drapes just to wake Bella from her peaceful slumber. Squinting against the harsh light, she scrunched her nose in annoyance and she had the urge to hex the sun for its audacity.

Something heavy trapped half her body against the terribly uncomfortable floor. Turning her head to see what the bloody hell it was, Bellatrix could not help the soft smile that spread across her face as she came face to face with her sweet little witch, completely passed out with her head on her chest. The girl's breath washed over her exposed breasts and her hair tickled Bella's nose. She tried to gently slip out from beneath the girl to work blood back into her limbs, but the movement caused the Gryffindor to groan unappreciatively as she was roused from her sleep. "Bella?" she mumbled in a voice thick with sleep.

"Yes, doveling?" Bella answered with a chuckle.

"I don't want to get up. You're a good pillow," she whined.

A real laugh echoed through Bella's chest and Hermione's head shook with the sound. "We have to; it's only Thursday."

"How about you laugh again, it made your breasts bounce rather nicely." Hermione turned her innocent brown eyes up at Bella's aghast expression and let out a laugh of her own. Bella swatted at the young witch, but Hermione rolled away too quickly and Bella simply swatted air.

"Can we at least have breakfast before we leave? I'm starving!"

"The food in the Great Hall isn't good enough for you?" Bella asked as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.

"It's fine, but I can't eat with you in the Great Hall," Hermione replied with an adorable pout.

Rolling her eyes and with a smile tugging at her lips, Bellatrix stood and padded to her room. As she passed the brunette, she swatted a round bottom and her smile grew wider. She could _feel _the lusty gaze of the young woman following her swaying hips as she grabbed two silk robes from her room. Who knew the studious young student could have such a voracious sexual appetite?

Donning her usual black robe, she tossed the emerald green one to the young witch and appreciated how well it suited her. Thin, green silk would definitely be more common in Hermione's wardrobe the second Bellatrix had time to go shopping.

"Sipsey!" Bellatrix called and an instant later, the house-elf appeared with a _pop _in the center of the sitting room.

"Mistress Bellatrix called?" the elf's high voice inquired as she subtly took in the state of their undress. Bellatrix could practically _see _the glowing smile the elf kept hidden.

"Yes, Sipsey, Hermione and I would like some breakfast if you please. Something filling, we both worked up an appetite last night," she said with a wink to the blushing witch.

"Right away, Mistress Bella!" Sipsey disappeared with another _pop. _

"Come, darling, I believe we should both enjoy a shower before breakfast." Removing her robe, Bellatrix made her way over to the bathroom and giggled quite unlike herself as Hermione scampered quickly after her, like a sweet little puppy after a yummy treat.

The shower was long and hot and both women left even more satisfied than they had been when they entered.

With a towel wrapped around her damp hair, Hermione exited the bathroom to find a full buffet waiting for them on the table by the window.

The two witches feasted on their morning meal in companionable silence all while sharing long, happy looks filled with love.

Once they were stuffed and there was only half an hour before classes began, Bellatrix called for Sipsey again.

"Sipsey, could you please bring Mistress Hermione a new set of uniforms and her book bag?" she asked the elf kindly.

"Sipsey would be happy to do so for Mistress Hermione."

"Sipsey, please, just Hermione," the brunette implored.

"Mistress Bellatrix has chosen Mistress Hermione as her mate; therefore, she is also Sipsey's mistress," the elf informed her in a surprising no-nonsense voice that had Hermione swallow her reply.

"Sipsey, there is one more thing before you go," Bellatrix drawled, lazily plucking a strawberry and popping it into her mouth with a bored expression.

"Anything for Mistress Bellatrix," she answered.

"I should like to thank you for helping Hermione make me realize how much I love and need her." Bella's bored expression transformed into a look of appreciation and care for the loyal elf. "Thank you, Sipsey. I realise I was being foolish and you helped me see what I needed to be truly happy."

Large, sparkling blue eyes filled with tears and Hermione had to fight to keep a sob inside her chest. "Sipsey only wants Mistress Bellatrix to be happy!"

Hermione could see Bella's composure slipping, but the witch nodded with a soft smile over her lips. "I know, Sispey. You're a good elf and a wonderful friend." She conjured a tissue and passed it to the weeping elf.

"Sipsey will fetch Mistress Hermione's things before she is late for class." She disappeared with a sniff and a _pop. _

"Bella, you're really not mad at her for helping me?" Hermione asked the raven-haired witch in slight surprise as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.

Bellatrix cleared her throat and fixed Hermione with a look that had her pulse racing. "How could I be mad at her, darling?" She stood and crouched in front of the young witch and took both her hands in her own. "She helped me realize how much I love you when I nearly let you go. I will be forever grateful to her for that."

With more tears running down her cheeks, Hermione ran her fingers through Bella's damp curls. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	35. Chapter 35

Severus paced and back forth in the Headmaster's office late that night. He had never been one for warmth and cheerfulness but this night, he wondered; if had his life turned out differently, could he have been a warm-hearted man unassociated with beings as devoid of conscience as the ones with whom he had just spent the evening?

As of late, the Dark Lord's meetings left him chilled to the bone. The plans for his dark New Wizarding World were fanatic and bloody, something reminiscent of an era terror before logic and humanity graced the consciousness of mankind.

But somehow, the eradication of Muggles and Muggle-borns was the only topic that brought the slightest flicker of emotion to Andromeda's otherwise indifferent expression. Those other bloodthirsty Neanderthals jeered and shouted with delight at the idea of hunting all non-Pure-bloods, reminding Snape of a Muggle film he'd seen in his youth before Hogwarts, of cavemen leaping and shouting around a bonfire after their latest kill. He'd once thought those early humans to be silly and uncivilized. Now, however, he found those cavemen had more humanity and dignity than all the Death Eaters combined. There was nothing human about slaughtering defenseless Muggle villages and torturing so-called traitors until they begged for death.

Although the topics of these meetings were blood-chilling, the worst had nothing to do with their plans for the "betterment of wizard-kind". The way the Dark Lord's red eyes lingered on Andromeda, his darkest, most twisted follower… if the Dark Lord was capable of love, Severus was sure he'd love his darkest creation. It made his stomach twist to the point of sickness.

Andromeda had been a sweet person all her life, despite her difficult upbringing. She and Ted were a few years older than him at Hogwarts but they, unlike many other students, had never mocked or insulted him. Andromeda had even been kind to him. Like her elder sister, Andromeda later fought alongside her husband against Voldemort during the First Wizarding War. The three of them were extremely close and the Order only strengthened their bond.

And now he was dead and she was… worse than dead. She was a monster.

He ran a hand through his long black hair and continued pacing. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up this charade. The Dark Lord was asking more and more tasks of him, and Severus' reluctance to demonstrate his full dominance over Hogwarts was beginning to irritate the snake-like creature.

Oh, how he despised that man – no – that _thing! _

Sometimes, on lonely nights like this, Severus felt as if his mind would burst with everything he had to keep hidden inside. Knowledge and plans, plots and secrets – all brimming to the edge, threatening to spill over. He couldn't expose all the Dark Lord's plans to the Order for fear of him suspecting a traitor within his inner circle, and he couldn't satisfy the Dark Lord by divulging all his knowledge of Potter's whereabouts and missions for fear of actually putting the boy's life in immediate danger. Snape's mind twisted in the spider's web he'd managed to weave around himself.

"Phineas!" he barked to one of the sleeping portraits. The deceased wizard inside the frame stirred and grumbled as he blinked the sleep from his dark eyes.

"Just because the Dark Lord made you headmaster, _boy,_ does not give you the authority to address a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black _and_ past headmaster thusly!" the man with the long, pointed black beard berated indignantly.

"As you stated, you are a _past _headmaster and, if I remember the Black family tapestry correctly, you have not been a part of that most ancient and noble house for some time," Snape quipped impatiently. "Any news of Potter?"

"Potter, the redhead, and my great-great-great-grandson visited the Lovegood residence not long ago. Obviously, it was a trap. The Dark Lord apparently had the man's daughter kidnapped and has been using her as leverage to force the fool to print Death Eater propaganda and favour the Dark Lord's new regime in his magazine instead of supporting Potter," the portrait informed him. It had been Draco's brilliant idea to take the old headmaster's portrait in their sack from Grimmwald Place to use as a spy inside the headmaster's office. Little did they know that the portraits of past headmasters were loyal to the current headmaster and not to a bunch of obnoxious teenage boys – even if one of them was part of the portrait's lineage. Phineas was a two-way keyhole. He told the boys what Snape wanted them to know and he informed Severus of the boys' plans and whereabouts.

"And they escaped?"

Headmaster Black rolled his eyes. "Have you heard the joyful shouts of celebrating Death Eaters announcing the death of the Boy Who Lived? No. Obviously, the boy and his friends escaped and the Dark Lord's plan was foiled."

Having learned what he wanted and having tired of the unpleasant banter, Severus conjured a white sheet and covered the portrait, silencing Phineas' outburst of objections.

"You know he will just give you an earful when you remove the sheet," a teasing voice chuckled from behind the Headmaster's chair.

"I couldn't possibly care less about his grumblings; I have more important things to worry about, and I cannot think with him blithering about the nobility of Blacks all night!" Snape snapped petulantly at the portrait.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently and shook his head. "You always were rather impatient, even as a boy."

"Perhaps I'm normal and simply do not enjoy hearing the blithering of narcissists."

The old man shook his head once more, the ghost of an amused smile playing over his lips. Bantering with Severus was a part of his life. In death, the banter took a bittersweet taste. "Harry?" he queried, adopting a more serious tone.

Severus sighed. "Potter's fine. He escaped a trap at Lovegood's hovel. His daughter, the looney one, has been kidnapped and is being held as leverage against Xenophilius."

"Luna," the old professor corrected unconsciously, as though it were casual to correct professors' rude nicknames for their students. "Poor girl, I'm sure she'll be brought to safety soon enough."

"She's being held captive by _Death Eaters _in Malfoy Manor as a blood traitor! She'll be lucky if she escapes with her life, minus a few extremities and what little sanity she possessed to begin with."

Dumbledore hummed but did not reply. Severus sighed again and leaned on the desk, both hands bracing his exhausted body. For the first night in a long time, he was alone, save for the talking portraits. No one knew he had returned to the school. He wanted it that way. Tonight, he could not possibly endure Minerva's ranting over the safety of the students, the Carrows' sickening philosophies on discipline or Bella's unyielding threats unto his genitals if more students were tortured with an Unforgivable. How he had longed to shout that he could do very little about it! How it made him sick to see Longbottom and Granger in near-coma states when he secretly visited them that night after the incident with Amycus. Not that Snape had a particular fondness for either of them… but he could easily recall the fervor with which Granger would answer his questions in class and Longbottom's persistence to succeed in Potions, no matter how dreadful the final concoction turned out to be. In his mind's eye, Severus could still see the bushy-haired, bucked tooth girl and the pudgy-faced boy with large ears in their first year.

_Merlin, this is taking its toll… I'm feeling sympathy for Gryffindors… _

"You seem anxious, Severus. Call for some tea," Dumbledore suggested, his blue eyes gazing sympathetically at the old Potions Master down his crooked nose.

In response, Snape ground his teeth and turned his back to the old wizard and continued his pacing once again. He longed to sleep – a deep, dreamless sleep. He tried to recall the last time he had slept restfully through the night. He couldn't. It must have been before…

"Severus…you know this all a part of the plan. It must happen this way."

"I know exactly what has to happen. _I'm _the one who has been making it all happen!"

"And therefore, you know it is exactly _how _it must to happen. Remember, this is the only way to avenge Lily-"

"Do not speak her name!" Black eyes flashed dangerously in the dim office. His gaze could have burned holes through Dumbledore's canvas at the sight of the smile on the old man's face. He pulled at the collar of his black robes, feeling too constricted, trapped. "It… this is ridiculous! Her son must _die _to make her death – her sacrifice for him – worth it? What kind of twisted irony is at work here, Albus? Is this just a play for you to manipulate and watch unfold on stage?"

"Severus, Voldemort must do it, and Harry must go willingly. It is the only way," the professor's voice softened and for a moment, Severus saw the old, tired man of only a year ago – the man that had begged Severus to end his life so Draco's innocent soul would be spared.

With a long, drawn-out breath, Severus sank into the headmaster's chair. Though it was officially _his _office, nothing had changed. It still felt like Dumbledore's, and that both comforted Snape as well as frustrated him endlessly.

_The life of a spy is lived for others and is too lonely for words. _For what was not the first time, he wondered what it would be like to tell someone _everything, _to confide all his secrets to a soul ready to share his burden_. _But who? Surely not Minerva, nor any of the Death Eaters – not on his life. Narcissa might have understood… the woman understood love, at least, if only for her son and perhaps her husband.

A face suddenly came to mind, like lightning illuminating a dark, stormy sky. Black curls framed a pale face and an arrogant smirk lit a mischievous glint in the woman's dark eyes. That was how Bellatrix had looked at him when she discovered his most precious and carefully guarded secret. In her youth – and still today – Bella prided herself on her ability to expose the best-kept secrets of others. She was no empty-headed, gossiping witch, but she reveled in the knowledge that she could utterly _end you _with the knowledge she had if she wished.

"_So, little Sevvie is still in love with Potter's girl… I thought you might have grown out of that since you were officially enemies on opposite sides of a war… but of course, it does make for a tragic love story… I'm sure you enjoy the little fantasies you could concoct from that…"_ Snape had let her ramble on, but after that, they never spoke of it. Not when Lily died, not when the Potter brat started school. That was something he respected Bella for.

Yes, Bellatrix would be the only one he could confide in, but she was too hot-headed and honestly, she could push Snape's buttons like no one else.

No, he was cursed with his solitary life. It was the price he had to pay to see the disgusting creature that had killed his Lily finally destroyed.

* * *

"Luna's a hostage?!" Ginny cried as she, Hermione, and Neville trudged over the snow-covered banks of the Black Lake.

"That's what Harry told me. It makes sense; the Death Eaters are using her as leverage against Mr. Lovegood to force him to write all those lies in the Quibbler," Hermione confirmed regretfully. On her other side, Neville was silent, but his gloved hands were balled into tight fists and his eyes here fixed ahead in a deadly glare.

"What are we going to do? Is there anything we _can _do? Poor Luna… those bastards…" Ginny rambled miserably, whipping at her eyes.

Neville swallowed hard. "All we can do is destroy You-Know-Who so we can free her. Hermione, is there any more we could do to help Harry?"

Hermione called to mind her friends' recent message. There was the news of the trap, Luna's kidnapping, and now the new information on the Deathly Hallows: the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. They were still unsure of the role the Hallows played in their mission to defeat Voldemort, but Draco was right. The symbol was most definitely important.

There was one final fact which Hermione was acutely aware of and it filled her with dread and battle lust. "Soon, the fight will come to Hogwarts. We'll all have to be ready when it does. We will need an escape route, allies… we need to be ready for any possibility." Her friends nodded fervently as she spoke.

Together, they set more frequent meetings for the DA and planned to search for potential routes in and out of Hogwarts on their next Hogsmeade trip that weekend.

* * *

"Come on you lot, before someone spots us," Neville urged, ushering them into the dim and musty tavern. The Hog's Head was one of Hermione's least favourite places in the village, but this meeting was far too secret to be held in The Three Broomsticks, where every other student and professor enjoyed a warm mug of butterbeer next to a soothing fire.

All morning, they had searched all over the outskirts of the village for a secret way in and out of the school, but to no avail. Unless they wanted to trek through the heart of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione could think of no secret way in and out of school grounds.

"You're sure all the secret passageways are blocked off?" Seamus asked as they all settled around a sticky table in the far back corner of the pub.

"Positive," Hermione answered. "Harry told me of each and every one and I've checked them all – they're all blocked. Even the one under the Whomping Willow has been sealed tight."

"Blimey, I didn't know about that one. Who else could have known?"

"Snape knew about it. So, it had to be him who had it blocked," Neville said bitterly.

"The slimy git…" Ginny muttered under breath, sounding so much like Ron that Hermione felt a pang of pain at the thought of her absent friends.

With them, there was Ernie, Justin, Hannah, Lavender, Terry, Michael, and the Patil twins. They thought it would be less conspicuous if just elder students went out for a drink rather than students from all years. Caution was an absolute must with so many Death Eaters and Snatchers parading around the village.

"What if we made a new one? I mean, someone had to make all the other passages, so why not make one ourselves?" Michael suggested in true Ravenclaw fashion.

"I suppose that is the most logical solution," Hermione agreed, although skeptically.

"But where would it lead out here?" Parvati wondered.

"And where in the school would it start?" Padma added.

They all turned as the barkeeper stomped over from the back to their table with a tray loaded with their butterbeers. He was a tall, robust man with a thick, shaggy beard the colour of dirty snow that matched his long, messy hair. Hermione had never learned his name, but there were rumors around town – particularly voiced my Madam Rosemarta – that the man had an unusual obsession with goats. The Gryffindor had no idea if this was true or if his competitor simply used the rumor to win over the pub-going clientele.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione thanked him as he set down the tray.

"You lot better not cause me any more trouble like you did the last time," his gruff voice replied from beneath the mess of hair.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Justin asked.

"When have we ever caused you trouble?" Terry demanded indignantly.

"I remember you lot," he grunted, ignoring Terry's burst of outrage. "You all started that Dumbledore's Army here in my pub two years ago. I had that horrible Ministry hag, Umbridge… she was on my arse the rest of the year 'cause she found out you met here. She nearly had me close the Head down."

"We're sorry, sir, we didn't know we caused you trouble," Hannah apologized sincerely.

"And we don't mean to again," Ernie promised.

"By the sounds of it, you are. You all want a secret passage out of the school."

Shocked, the students stared up at him in horror. How had he known? But more importantly, _would he betray them to the Death Eaters?_

"Relax, you look like you've all just seen a Dementor!" the man boomed. "I'm not going to rat you out," he reassured them in a whisper. Grabbing the back of the nearest empty chair, he pulled it in front of him and sat down with his legs on either side and his arms folded across the back, much like Hermione's father would do. "I hate those tattooed sycophants just as much as you do and those Snatchers are a pain in my arse. Three times a night, I have to throw a pair 'o 'em out to keep 'em from destroying my bar in some asinine brawl. No, I'm not going to rat you out."

"Then will you help us?" Hermione inquired, eyeing an opportunity and seizing it.

"I didn't say I'd do that," he said unamused. He fixed Hermione with his bright blue eyes, and she had the strangest feeling of familiarity in their clear depths.

"If you help us, it will get the Death Eaters out of here that much quicker," Ginny persisted.

"And how do you suppose children having a secret passage out of the school is going to help get Death Eaters out of Hogsmeade?" he spat and went to lift his heavy frame from the chair.

"Because it'll be helping Harry Potter!" Seamus countered far too loudly for Hermione's liking. The rest of them gave him warning hisses and dirty looks. For good measure, Ginny kicked his shin beneath the table.

"Harry Potter," the barkeep said Harry's name as if it were a joke he found funny. "Another child! A boy in hiding!"

"He's not in hiding! He's on a mission to defeat You-Know-Who," Michael defended passionately.

"Then he's on a fool's mission; no one can defeat You-Know-Who."

"Dumbledore believed he could," Neville retorted defiantly, slowly standing from his chair.

Now the man really laughed. "Dumbledore? That old fool… your friend's in deeper trouble than you know. Why don't you all just go back to school and learn how to turn frogs into toadstools?" He made to leave, but Hermione caught his arm.

"Please, sir. Harry is one of my closest friends. I know _exactly _what he's doing and I can assure you that with your aid, we can defeat You-Know-Who once and for all. But to do that, we need a secret passage out of the school and Harry will need one to get inside." Hermione's unwavering gaze held the man's ice-blue eyes in a battle of wills – who would be the first to look away? With strength and severity in her eyes, Hermione tried to convey to the skeptic barkeep how essential this was to Voldemort's downfall. She let all her power well in her eyes and she saw the man's pupils respond. He finally understood just how important this was and he believed her words. Or perhaps he was simply humoring her.

With a grunt, the man looked away and picked up his tray. "Fine. You," he pointed to Hermione, "and you," he pointed to Neville, "come with me upstairs. The rest of ye, clear out before someone on the street gets suspicious of a bunch of teenagers sitting in my dingy pub."

Mutely obeying him, the rest of the students stood and left the bar. Hermione and Neville followed the man somewhat hesitantly up a set of creaky stairs into a dusty sitting room. On one wall over a cold fireplace hung a portrait of a young girl with long, shining red hair and soft expression. On the opposite wall, there was a dirty window, a small table, and a few armchairs. As Hermione walked over the worn carpet, she kicked up small clouds of dust.

"So just who are the two of you?" the man asked as he lit a fire in the hearth with a match.

"Hermione Granger," she introduced herself and offered her hand. The man straightened and grunted, and she shyly retracted her limb.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville said, his voice deep. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Neville's blatant display of masculine bravado.

"Granger, Longbottom. We'll see if I remember that. You can call me Aberforth." He bent to place a kettle of water over the fire to boil.

"Aberforth," the two Gryffindors said together.

Aberforth settled himself into one of the ancient armchairs and waved for the other two to do the same.

"So, uh, Aberforth. Where would the secret passage lead to in Hogsmeade?" Hermione questioned. Did the old man know of an already existing passage?

"Here."

"Here?" Neville's eyebrows shot skyward.

With another grunt, Aberforth heaved himself out of his armchair – clearly annoyed by having to rise again – and leaned against the mantelpiece over the fireplace. Hermione's eye caught on something silver and shiny, just visible past Aberforth's arm. It looked like a shard of mirror, but before Hermione could ponder the strangeness of it, the bristly bearded man spoke. "What do you think, Ariana?" he asked the girl in the painting. Just by staring at his back, the two saw the aggressive tension drain away from his shoulders and they dipped just slightly. His voice, which before Hermione had assumed to be naturally gruff and thick, turned soft and sweet like warm, honeyed milk.

Hermione's eyes flicked up to see the girl in the painting gazing down at Aberforth sweetly, a loving smile lighting her youthful face. She languidly nodded her head.

Pulling a long, crooked wand from his robes, Aberforth tapped on the large wooden frame of Ariana's portrait, once, twice, three, four times. He slipped his fingers between the frame and the wall and pulled. The portrait swung outward, like a door on a hinge. Behind it, a large tunnel filled with total blackness stretched farther into the wall than either Gryffindor could see.

"There. A secret passage."

"How did you… _do _that?" Neville asked amazed as Hermione sat wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Magic, obviously! Now get up in there. Just keep walking and think of where in the castle you want to end up. The passage will lead you there. Do not stop walking once I shut the portrait hole, otherwise, you'll be stuck, and I don't want the lives of two children on my hands."

The two jumped from their seats. Neville gave Hermione a leg up over the mantelpiece and he jumped in after her.

"Thank you, Aberforth," Hermione thanked him graciously with a bright smile.

"Don't thank me. Just don't bother me or my pub again!" His voice had returned to its usual level of gruffness, but Hermione saw a small sparkle in his brilliantly blue eyes that had her smiling wider.

Neville nodded his thanks to the old man and pulled her along after him down the passage.

"Neville, where should we have it lead us?" she asked.

"It's obvious, of course," he replied as Aberforth shut the portrait hole behind them, plunging them into total darkness. Fishing through her robes, Hermione pulled out her wand and the tip flared with light so Neville could see the impatient look on her face.

Quickening his stride, Neville chuckled as he led the way. "It'll take us to the Room of Requirement. It's the only safe place."

Hermione followed the young wizard through the tunnel. The ceiling was high enough for her to walk comfortably, but Neville had to keep his shoulders hunched and his back bent uncomfortably.

"Hey, Nev," Hermione said after a few minutes of silence. "Did Aberforth remind you of someone?"

"Yeah… I guess he did."

"Any idea who?"

"Not a clue."


	36. Chapter 36

The night was inky black as Bellatrix made her way through the abandoned halls of Hogwarts on her way to her chambers in the Professors' Wing. Though she held an attachment to nights the same shade as her name, tonight she was grateful for the warm light of the torches lighting her way. The late winter weather was doing them no favours as sleet and snow battered against the sturdy castle walls and rattled the windows. The wind was furious, blowing the naked trees around like mere blades of grass in a strong breeze.

It was nights like these that made Bellatrix want to curl up in front of the fire with a glass of wine, a blanket, and a good book. She wished Hermione could have joined her for that, but the diligent student had fervently insisted that she needed the night alone to catch up on her school work – even despite all the kisses Bella lavished on her young lover's neck and lips to persuade her otherwise.

_No matter, perhaps another night…_ Bellatrix smiled as she mused as to where their sofa-cuddling could lead.

She opened her door with a pleasant, daydreamesque smile over her features that instantly vanished as she entered her chambers. She tensed. Something was wrong. Weak torchlight washed through her foyer and sitting room, revealing the space she knew so well, and something less than expected.

"Bloody hell! What on earth are you doing here?" Bella waved her wand. The fire roared to life, clearly illuminating the statuesque figure standing by the window.

The corners of Narcissa Malfoy's mouth turned up in a self-satisfied smirk. Having her sister on her toes could work to her advantage, she mused. "I wish to talk," she answered coolly.

"You could have sent an owl," Bella stated. She shut the door firmly behind her and discretely cast a silencing charm. She wanted no one to know of Lady Malfoy's visit.

"Don't be daft, Bella, you know as well as I that no sensitive information is safe in the post."

"Oh, so this meeting is about a _sensitive _topic of discussion! I do love secrets." Bella's eyes darted to the decanter by her desk. _Perhaps something stronger than wine tonight… _the soothing temptation was often a little demon that plagued her mind whenever confronted with familial drama.

Taking a resolving breath, Bella crossed the sitting room and sat in her favourite leather throne empty-handed.

Slowly, like a glacier moving across the plains, Narcissa glided away from the window and the frosty landscape and moved closer to the fire. The light played over the fair witch. Her expensive robed glittered like a snow-covered field in torchlight and her hair shone gold rather than its usual white-blond in the yellow light.

Her youngest sister's face appeared completely composed, but Bellatrix could still read her like an open book. Narcissa was drawn, tired. Dark circles hung beneath her icy eyes and showed despite the glamour. Her pale lips were completely bare of lipstick – a tell Bella knew well. Much like herself, Cissy bit her lip whenever she was anxious. Her long-fingered hands were clasped tightly together against her torso to keep them from picking at strings. Cissy was worried. Once again feeling in control, Bella waited for her sister to sit and raised her eyebrows impatiently.

"Well?"

"Well?"

"Cissy, you came to me. Obviously, there's something you want; I don't have time to dig for it. I have a job here and scrolls from idiotic students to grade."

"Is it possible I simply wished to have a _civil _conversation with my eldest sister?" she replied with mock indignance.

"No. it's not your style, Cissy. You wouldn't come to me, in the dead of night; unannounced; with a clear hidden motivation if you didn't want something from me."

"You always were so blunt," she sighed wistfully, plucking an invisible thread from her immaculate robes.

"And you were never cryptic and evasive. Those are new traits, learned since your marriage to a Death Eater." She bore through her sister's resolve with her penetrating dark eyes. Narcissa had never been able to keep secrets from her. It was a natural power of Bella's – she always knew the existence of a person's secrets.

With a wall still firmly behind blue eyes, Narcissa replied, "The Dark Lord plans on fully occupying Hogwarts. There is too much dissidence, and he –"

"Old news – next."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Andromeda says hello."

"Liar." Bella knew her sister was baiting her; pushing her buttons, but the awareness didn't make the tactic any less effective. "She would never have allowed you to see me if she knew."

Narcissa smiled, but it was insincere. "You still miss her."

Fire flashed deep in Bella's black eyes. "How's my dear brother-in-law doing these days? I hear even a short stint in Azkaban can irreversibly damage a weak soul…"

Narcissa's jaw hardened.

"Oh, no!" Bella placed a hand over her heart in feigned concern. "Is little Lucy sad?" She stuck out her bottom lip childishly in a mock pout and batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Enough, Bellatrix."

Bella grinned wickedly. "Was there something on your mind, sister dear?"

Without a word, Narcissa stood and strode to the fire, prepared to Floo away from her exasperating sister.

Bella sighed obnoxiously, unsurprised but disappointed. "Draco's safe," she said to Narcissa's back.

The blonde witch froze but did not turn around to look at her sister.

"Well… safe as possible, I suppose. No one's truly safe around Potter…"

Now, the youngest Black sister turned and fixed a steely gaze on her sister. Bella's eyes widened in surprise but she kept her composure. She knew her baby sister loved her son more than anything. It was heartbreaking to see the told her distress took over her.

The corners of Cissy's blue eyes sparkled like liquid diamonds and her shaking hands fisted. "How do you know?" her voice was hard but trembled with emotion.

Bella looked away. In exasperation, she had already given up powerful information – Draco was with Potter. Could she trust her sister with her lover's life – could she reassure her sister by telling her it was Hermione feeding her this information? She believed Narcissa would never break her trust by running to the nearest Death Eater to turn Hermione in as a 'traitor', but if Draco's safety could be bought with this information… Bellatrix had no hope.

"Bella?" Narcissa implored, taking a hurried step forward before hesitating. With a sigh, she closed the space between them and took a pale hand between her own ghostly-pale ones. Bella's heart bled. "Please?"

"Cissy… I can't tell you…"

"What? Why? Bellatrix, he's my son!"

"And this… I don't want to lie to you but don't force me to tell you. Just trust me. He's safe." Bella's eyes pleaded for understanding.

"But you don't trust me." Narcissa scoffed and dropped Bella's hand as though it had turned into a poisonous snake. "I know we've had a… complicated relationship over the last few decades, but I've always trusted you, Bella. I came here to try to help and now you can't even tell me how you know my only child is safe!" she shouted accusingly.

"Cissy, I do trust you! But I also know that you would do anything to keep your son safe."

"How would telling how you know hurt you? Are you in contact with him? Bellatrix, I would never betray you –"

"He's your son, Cissy –"

"And you're my sister!"

"It's not the same…"

"Explain!"

"You wouldn't understand!"

"Trust me! I'm your sister."

"So is Andy!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If Andy knew, she'd kill her!"

"Who?! Bellatrix, you sound mad!"

"I can't!"

"Bellatrix, who's in contact with my son?"

"I can't tell you who she is…"

"Why?"

"I can't!"

"Bellatrix –"

"NO!"

"Bella!"

"I love her!"

Silence. Dead silence. Narcissa stood in shock and Bella in horror. _Oh no… what have I done?_

"Bella… who is it you love?" In an instant, Narcissa's demeanor changed from antagonist to concerned and almost… motherly. For a second, Bella was immeasurably jealous of Draco.

Bella swallowed. Just as no one could keep a secret from her, she had a devil of a time keeping anything from Narcissa. Taking her sister's hand, Bella stared imploringly into her sister's eyes. "Swear to me you won't tell a soul. Absolutely no one! Give me your word as a witch and a Black!"

"Bella, I promise –"

"Your word!"

"I give you my word! Do I need to make an Unbreakable Vow next?"

Bella sighed. "No. Your word is enough." Bella tried to calm her shaking, but her nerves were at their wit's end. "I'm in love… with Hermione Granger. Potter and Weasley's friend – she's the one in contact with the three of them. We're in love." In her ears, the words sounded as though they were from a dream – she could hardly believe they had slipped from her lips and they sounded distorted.

Narcissa stared at Bellatrix as though she'd grown the head of a Hippogriff. After a moment, she plopped down on the sofa, most unladylike – and therefore most un-Narcissa-like – and tried to wrap her mind around what she'd just heard. "You're in love?"

Bella nodded. "Yes."

"With one of your students?"

"We've gotten around that particular issue but essentially… yes."

"With a Mudblood?"

"Get off that Pure-blooded nonsensical high horse of yours, Narcissa! She's Muggle-born, yes, but no less a witch than you or I."

Narcissa had the courtesy to look slightly embarrassed by her choice of words. When she looked up at her sister once more, her eyes were once again filled with tears, but of a different kind. "You're in love?" A small smile bloomed over her face and she let out a girlish giggle. With this small sound of joy, they were children again, as though the past thirty years had never happened. Bella's eyes pooled and she blinked rapidly but in vain.

Nostalgia for their lost childhood overwhelmed her, as did the undying love the sisters still felt for one another. Bella stood from the armchair, unsure of what to do. Before she could reconsider, warm, loving arms wrapped around her, and Bella cried harder feeling Narcissa's own tears on her shoulder.

What she said was more than accurate – their relationship was absolutely complicated, but Bella still loved her baby sister – both her sisters, despite everything – dearly. Nothing came between a true Black and family.

Relaxing into Cissy's strong embrace, Bella wondered how their lives would have been if life hadn't bullied them; if the Dark Lord hadn't wanted her family; if her mother hadn't been murdered; if Andy hadn't gone mad.

Maybe the three sisters would have been closer – inseparable like they'd been in their youth. Bella sighed. That life was gone – it never had a chance and there was no way of bringing it back. All Bellatrix could hope for was rebuilding her sisterly bond with her youngest sister.

Once Bellatrix was dry of her tears, she pulled away from her sister, giving her a tired smile. It was wonderful how tenderness transformed Narcissa's features. Those icy eyes melted into warm spring pools. Colour rose to her cheeks, taking away from the sharpness of her cheekbones and giving her a youthful glow. This was the little Cissy she liked to remember.

Finally, Bella pulled out the much-needed wine. They stayed up late into the night talking. They reminisced on the happy moments of their childhood – their summers in the south of France on the beach, Christmases, their Hogwarts years… but Narcissa did not question her sister further about her relationship with the Golden Girl. Their conversation took on a more adult-like tone as they spoke of the past, the nostalgia and longing for lost times weighing down on both of them.

Never once did they mention the darker side of their lives. The wars, their mother's death, and father's betrayal, Andromeda's change of sides and madness and imprisonment, the imminent danger they and everyone they loved lived in day-to-day… it was not needed. They felt it hidden behind every word.

Dawn began to lighten the outside world before Narcissa finally stood to leave. They shared a brief farewell hug and wished each other well.

Green flames burned through Bella's vision and she smiled sadly. This was definitely not how she expected her night to go, but she did not regret it. This one night could not erase the past few decades, but it was one step closer to reconciliation with her sister. There was still much more road to travel.

Bella stretched catlike and draped herself over the sofa. The clock over the mantel read ten after six. She had just over an hour until breakfast would be served and she would have to prepare for her first class.

_No matter… Sipsey will wake me… _she thought as the rest of her mind shut down. She never thought before sleep claimed her, that Narcissa had never told her whatever sensitive information she'd claimed she was there to deliver.

* * *

Hermione kept her jaw clenched. No matter what, she was determined to keep her mouth shut against the flood of noise that threatened to shatter the barrier of her teeth to puncture the air in the classroom.

Today, they were learning about the domination of wizards over every other living creature in the magical and unmagical worlds. It was sickening. This food chain resembled those that Muggle-borns were taught in primary school: first, there was the earth, rocks and unliving matter, then there were bacteria and single-celled organisms, and the chain grew and grew until it reached the top, where the predators and carnivores sat atop their thrones.

This one, however, did not include inorganic matter, bacteria or animals. It was a species domination chart, where wizards took their "rightful place" at the top and elves, goblins, giants, trolls, Half-breeds, Half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and all other magical creatures were a jumbled mess beneath them. Muggles and non-magical beings were even lower. Like the dirt, mud, and rocks that occupied the lowest tier in primary schools.

Also unlike those fun circle of life projects, this chart had no cycle. There was no return to earth when the wizards died; there was simply a top and a bottom and according to Professor Carrow, only one species could ever occupy the top tier.

Hermione longed for _The Lion King _at this moment more than she had ever longed for any other childhood movie in her life. "We are all a part of the great Circle of Life" she repeated Mufasa's words through her mind like a comforting mantra as the professor continued on her stomach-churning lecture.

As the year went on, Muggle Studies became more and more nightmarish.


	37. Chapter 37

Bellatrix sipped her scalding tea as she watched the sun dip beneath the horizon. Behind her, Minerva sipped from her own teacup as she watched Bella's back as if she could gage the woman's reaction by watching the mass of black curls and straight shoulders.

"Bellatrix?" the Transfiguration Professor spoke after a few minutes of tortured silence.

With a loud sigh, Bellatrix turned back to her colleague. "I don't know what we're supposed to do," she repeated for the third time.

"Well, we can hardly just sit by and let them torture the students!" Minerva sputtered, placing her cup down on the saucer with a clang. "You saw the state of Mr. Longbottom! They clearly need a reminder of what happens when they harm our students."

"Need _I_ remind _you_, I already did that once, and you didn't approve of my methods." She sipped her tea broodingly. "I thought we agreed that for our own safety and that of the students, we would not interfere directly."

"To the devil with my approval!" the older witch shouted. "If your unconventional methods keep my students out of St. Mungo's, I will gladly turn a blind eye! And as for my safety – I would put myself in the line of fire of a thousand curses without hesitation rather than continue to watch the children suffer."

"Minerva," Bella groaned as she as sat across from the other woman. "I know you're worried about the students, but what would that solve?"

"You cannot honestly say you're not worried!"

"Of course I am! For Merlin's sake, despite their stupidity, those little buggers don't deserve the Carrows! But the only ones that are getting hurt are the ones who directly defy them. Therefore, it is mainly the older students in Dumbledore's Army. They know what they're doing."

"Oh, do they, now? I wasn't aware that children-"

"Hermione has a plan and she needs our cooperation."

"A plan? What plan?"

"By the sounds of it, we will be teaching fewer and fewer students as the weeks go by."

"Bellatrix, I thought Albus was the only one who enjoyed speaking in inane riddles." The green-eyed witch fixed her with a steely gaze.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix proceeded to elaborate her statement. "It seems Longbottom has discovered the secret to the Room of Requirement. While the Carrows were chasing him, he took refuge in the room and they were not able to enter. No matter how hard they tried. He will be staying there, along with Hermione, Finnigan, and whoever else the Carrows have on their most wanted list."

"Is that wise?" Minerva asked, hesitation written in every crease of her face. "How will they eat? Bathe? And their schooling-"

"Exams are the least of their worries now, Minerva! I'll be happy if Hermione can avoid any more broken bones. In any case, the room comes equipped with all their needs. There's a loo with a bath and I myself have assured them support from the kitchen elves."

"It seems our students have become the teachers themselves," the witch muttered and removed her spectacles. "I tried to remain out of the first war. And this one… I suppose I could have played a bigger part. Here are my students – whom I've watched grow from first-years who could barely hold a wand – fighting on the front lines! What is wrong with the world, Bellatrix? Children should not be in the thick of this."

"They're no longer children, Minerva," Bellatrix said plainly, her face a pale mask reflecting the flickering firelight.

The older witch sighed and leaned back in the black leather armchair. "I suppose you're right… has Ms. Granger mentioned anything else they may need?"

"You could ask Poppy to put together a first aid kit for them to have in the Room, in case they can't make it to the Hospital Wing."

Minerva nodded and stood. "I'll do that. Inform me if there is anything else, Bellatrix."

"I will," she promised.

Now alone, Bellatrix returned to watching the world darken outside the window. March had arrived and with it, slightly warmer weather. The ice that covered the outside world had begun to disappear and the snow slowly began to melt away. If she craned her neck properly, she could see Hagrid's cabin off in the distance, but no smoke rose out of the chimney and all the windows were all dark.

_The foolish oaf… _Some nights ago, the giant fool had hosted a _Support Harry Potter _party in his hut. It was not surprising that it did not take long for Ministry Aurors to arrive on their front step to arrest the man. He escaped, thankfully, with the help of Hermione and Neville. She admired their courage, but the sheer idiocy of _having a party _still baffled her.

The result of that night had been Neville's latest sleepover in the Hospital Wing, several unconscious Aurors and her own girlfriend held at wand-point by the Carrows and remaining Aurors. Hermione had earned three weeks of detention with Bellatrix – which would go decidedly well, in her opinion – and Neville had remained unconscious for several days. According to _Potterwatch, _Hagrid was now more or less safe in hiding in the mountains with Grawp.

Behind her, from the rug in front of the burning hearth, a low wine called her attention back to inside the room.

"Awe, Fang, you poor thing," Bella cooed in a high, baby voice as she sat beside the grief-stricken creature. "I know you miss him, but he'll be back." The dog's large head plopped into Bella's lap and she scratched him behind the ears. "It will all be over soon, and Hagrid will be back and I won't have to clean up your messes anymore. Just you wait, it will all be over soon."

* * *

The ceiling was oddly shaped. That was the conclusion Hermione had come to during the past hour of simply staring up at it. Lying on her cot in the Room of Requirement, the Gryffindor played with the necklace Bella had given her for Christmas. The green gem winked at her in the candlelight. If the stone had a personality, Hermione would bet all her Galleons that the little heart-shaped jewel would be smirking at her in an exact copy of Bellatrix.

Rolling off her bed, Hermione parted her privacy curtain. For their purposes, the Room had transformed from the large, open D.A arena into a cozier living space that reminded Hermione of the Gryffindor common room with its tints of red and gold. High on one wall with a latter climbing the brick wall, was a large portrait with the same background as Ariana's portrait back in Aberforth's sitting room. Now, the young girl was missing, as she mostly remained in her other frame with the irritable barkeep. On the other side of the room were Neville and Seamus's cots. The Irishman snored away beneath a mess of blankets and the bathroom door opened as Neville walked out towel drying his hair.

"Hey, 'Mione," he greeted and sat heavily on his cot. "Are you finding it comfortable enough?"

Hermione nodded and swung her feet lazily off the side of her bed. It felt odd… wrong to be sitting here doing nothing in the middle of the day. After their last spat with the Carrows, the three of them needed someplace safer and more secure than the common room to hide away from the twins' bloodthirst.

A loud _pop _sounded behind her curtain and Hermione turned to see Sipsey smiling at her. With her, the little elf had Hermione's trunk full of her belongings from her room. "Sipsey has brought Mistress Hermione's things," she squeaked cheerfully.

"Wonderful, Sipsey, thank you!" Hermione hadn't had time to return to her room to pack before hiding away. Glancing over at the two boys, Hermione was suddenly aware that neither of them had their belongings either. "Do you think you could bring my friends' things as well?" she asked the loyal house-elf. "Have Dobby help you, I don't want it to be too strenuous for you."

"Sipsey and Dobby will do so immediately." She nodded enthusiastically and _popped _away.

"Hermione, what was that?"

Leaving her little hideaway, Hermione made her way over to the boys and sat cross-legged on Neville's bed. On his cot, Seamus stirred awake and raised himself up on his elbows to look at them. "A friend. She's going to get your things from the dormitory."

"Blimey, thanks, Hermione. I could really use a new shirt," Seamus said with a toothy grin and rubbed the sleep from his face.

A moment later, there were two loud _pops _from the center of the room and Dobby and Sipsey appeared with the boys' trunks.

"Miss Hermione asked for her friends' belongings!" Dobby announced happily as he levitated both trunks to the two cots. The boys said their thank yous and the elves disappeared to fetch them some lunch.

Back on her own bed, Hermione pulled out her journal and tapped her wand to the cover. Peeling back the first few pages, the words from her past conversations with the boys flowed out like a fast typing computer. She turned to the most recent message from her to them. It described Hagrid's escape, the Carrows' rise in power, and her hiding in the Room of Requirement. There was no reply.

Hermione sat fiddling with her necklace and flipped through _The Tales of Beedle the Bard. _Now that they knew that the "Tale of the Three Brothers" described the three Deathly Hallows, Hermione was trying to find the significance between the objects, Voldemort, and Dumbledore. Harry said that Voldemort was searching for something; one of the Hallows? Hermione has a sickening suspicion she knew which…

A creaking resonated throughout the room and Hermione, in her surprise, dropped her book to the floor. Heart in her throat, she gripped her wand tightly and peeked through her curtains. At the end of the large room, the door began to materialize. _I thought no one could enter… Neville said we were safe from all of the Carrows' supporters. _

Stepping from her little sanctuary, Hermione took her stance beside Neville and Seamus and raised her wand to the door, ready for the intruder.

With a bang that echoed all around them, the door swung open and a figure stepped over the threshold. Clad all in black, Bellatrix strode regally through with a bag in one hand and mischief spelled out in every movement.

"At ease, kiddies, I'm not here to hurt you," she giggled patronizingly with her arms raised in mock surrender, an impish grin lighting her face; their state of anxiety far too obviously amusing to her.

"Be – Professor Black, how did you get in?" Hermione asked, her gaze automatically slipping down the witch's form. It had been a few days since they'd last been alone together and she'd missed her lover terribly. The woman shot her a heavy look that sent shivers down her spine as the professor waltzed over to them. The separation was taking its toll on the professor, as well. Behind her, the door disappeared once more and turned into a plain brick wall.

"I only asked the room to keep out those who support the Carrows, like most of the Slytherins and Snape. I wanted anyone who needed a safe place to stay to be able to get in," Neville explained but kept a wary eye on the professor all the same.

"So _obviously _I'm not here to hurt you lot, Longbottom, you can lower your wand. I brought you a gift." She lifted the hand that held the large black bag and dropped it in front of Seamus.

"What is it?" he asked as he untied it.

"Dead cats."

Seamus all but leaped away from the sack and Bellatrix cackled with glee. Undeterred, Hermione finished untying the drawstrings. "You brought the medical supplies!" she exclaimed. "I thought it would take longer."

"You underestimate me, pet," Bellatrix replied with a wink.

"Why do we need medical supplies?" Seamus asked as he cautiously reached his hand in and pulled out a bottle labeled _Skele-gro _and a jar of Weasley's _Bruise Removal Paste_.

"In case we have a run-in with the Carrows and can't make it to the Hospital Wing or if someone comes to us in need. I thought it would be smart to have some supplies in here; to be prepared. I even made her a list of herbs and plants that are useful in treating injuries – from the book you got me, Neville." She handed him a bundle of dried Moly, a plant used to counteract enchantments, and fresh Dittany, an herb that, if ingested, can cure shallow wounds.

"I'm glad the book is coming in handy! And you're right, Hermione. It's best to be prepared for anything," Neville agreed with a proud grin to his friend.

"Of course, she's right! You two wouldn't last a day without this one here to look after you. Merlin's balls, she's the only one with a head on her shoulders," Bella chided but grinned delightedly as Hermione blushed adorably. Seamus went to argue, but the dark witch silenced him with a single withering look. Hermione hid her laugh in a cough. "Anyways, I've got to run. Keep the door locked, kiddies. Mummy will be back for a visit soon." As the witch passed Hermione, the young Gryffindor felt something press into her hand and she held it tight in her fist, face impassive. The witch sent a wave over her shoulder as she walked back through the vanishing door. No one spoke until the door had once again vanished and all that was left was the plain brick wall.

"I'm glad she's on our side, but… man, she still scares me sometimes," Neville confessed as he released a long breath.

"No kidding… but… don't you fancy her a bit? In a crazy, scary kind of way, 'o course. I just mean she's got quite the figure, y'know? For a woman, professor… lady…" Seamus's mutterings trailed off as Neville blinked repeatedly at him without answering.

Hermione, again, had to cough in order to hide a burst of laughter. Oh, how it would have inflated Bella's ego to hear young men gossiping about her looks. Merlin could only guess how she would toy with Hermione's classmates if she ever found out.

Slipping back into her 'room', Hermione opened her hand to find a neatly folded piece of parchment cradled in her palm. She opened it and felt a giddy feeling overtake her as she read the instantly recognisable script scrawled on the note.

_I'm sending Sipsey to collect you at midnight. I want you tonight. Make up some story to tell the boys if they're still awake. – B _


	38. Chapter 38

Hermione paced back and forth in her little, curtained room as midnight ticked closer. Across the room, Neville and Seamus were fast asleep. She would have to ask Sipsey to find her a pair of earplugs – Seamus snored louder than a giant! It was a miracle the boys in his dormitory ever got any sleep.

As she paced, the clock chimed midnight and there was a quiet _pop _behind her.

"Is Mistress Hermione ready?" the elf whispered. In the gloom, Hermione could only see her large, blue eyes against a dark background. It was eerie, and it made the young witch wonder what it would have been like to come across a free elf before their enslavement to wizards. Would they be living in the woods? By a stream or in the mountains? Would there have been a settlement of elves in the Forbidden Forest? How frightening would it be to come across one in the middle of the night? Would they be like the centaurs and shun humans? So many questions she had not the time to ponder thoroughly.

Shaking away her thoughts, Hermione smiled brightly and took the elf's offered hand. Apparating with an elf was quite different from normal side-arm Apparition. Where normally there would have been the uncomfortable feeling of something pulling behind her navel, there was instead a feeling of dizziness, like she was spinning around and around on a little carnival ride.

In a fraction of a second, Hermione found herself standing in the center of Bella's sitting room. The fire in the hearth was burning low, giving off a warm, inviting glow, and all around the flat-like chambers, there were candles. The witch turned around in a circle to thank the elf, but she had already vanished. _It seems Bella doesn't want any interruptions tonight. _The thought sent Hermione's pulse skittering.

"Well, hello there, pet," a low, sultry voice greeted her from behind. Hermione turned and felt her knees go instantly weak. There stood her girlfriend. Her _insanely hot girlfriend_, leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom, clad in a lacy negligee that barely covered the swell of her bottom. It was, of course, black, but the silk caught the candlelight and when she moved, it seemed to ripple, like ink in a bottle. It was mesmerizing, but not nearly as much as those dark eyes filled to the brim with lust.

"It seems I'm underdressed for the evening," the young witch said as she tried to keep her eyes on Bellatrix's eyes and not the woman's very visible cleavage.

The older witch chuckled. Unlike Hermione, the woman made no attempt to hide her lusty looks. Heat rushed over Hermione's skin and she could feel a persistent and familiar itch forming between her legs. "Tsk, tsk, I believe that you are actually _over_dressed for our little meeting, pet." Practiced hands slid beneath the hem of Hermione's jumper and in seconds, the garment was lost to the floor. It did not take long for the remainder of the brunette's outerwear to join her jumper. Bella grinned as she gazed at the young woman through heavy-lidded eyes. "I knew you'd look stunning in green lace," she approved as she spun the girl around. A few weeks ago, Bella had gifted Hermione with a few sets of lingerie that were decidedly _not _what the young woman was used to wearing beneath her school uniform. The little number the witch wore now was of lovely emerald-green lace that hid absolutely nothing from Bella's hungry eyes. The panties were little more than a thong and the bra encased her small breasts beautifully. As lovely as the picture was, it was nothing compared to how the candlelight reflected off the young woman's bare skin.

Hermione was then pulled into the bedroom by a very enthusiastic Bellatrix. There were even more candles in here, and they all gave off a smell that had her arousal spike.

In moments, they were on the silky sheets of Bella's bed. Hermione ran her hands up the woman's bare thighs and blushed as she realized that beneath the little black slip, Bella wore nothing.

Full, red lips captured Hermione's sweet pink ones in a passionate kiss. It hadn't been _that_ long since their last night together, but when Bellatrix kissed her neck and slipped one of her bra straps off her shoulder, Hermione felt that it had been a century since she had last felt the body of her lover.

Sharp teeth nipped at her earlobe and long fingers grazed over her erect nipples. Bella's tongue trailed down Hermione's smooth neck and the young woman shivered beneath her touch. With a few flicks, the bra was removed and Bella's hot mouth immediately latched onto a perky breast.

Short nails left red trails down Hermione's sides and her back arched into the older woman's touch. A moan escaped her lips and her hands slipped further up Bella's thighs until they cupped her round ass. _How the hell is every inch of her so soft? _

Sighs and moans filled the candle-lit room and as they continued their foreplay; the candles burned ever lower.

Bella kissed her way down Hermione's taut abdomen, leaving in her wake a series of dark love-bites. When she reached the border of the girl's panties, the raven-haired woman grinned her wolfish grin up at the panting witch and took the material between her teeth.

Hermione believed there was nothing sexier than watching Bellatrix remove her panties with her teeth. Arousal pooled between her legs as Bella kissed her way back up her legs. Fingers skimmed teasingly over the skin in her inner thigh and Hermione squirmed in torture and ecstasy. And then a tongue licked over wet folds. Her eyelids squeezed shut and her head was thrown back, but not before the sight of Bella eating her out was permanently seared into her back of her eyes. _I was wrong, _THAT _is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. _

With Bella's tongue working magic inside her, Hermione was soon shaking and cried out at the power of her orgasm.

"I've missed you, love," Bellatrix whispered in her ear as Hermione came down from her cloud.

"I missed you, too, Bella," Hermione whispered back and pecked the woman on the lips. Another wave of arousal hit her as she tasted herself on Bella's lips. Hermione deepened the kiss and parted Bella's lips with her tongue. They dueled for dominance; neither willing to concede.

As they kissed, Hermione swallowed a squeal from the older woman as she flipped their positions, and straddled her lover's hips. "I want to see you now," she husked in the woman's ear.

Pupils blown with lust and her core burning, Bellatrix allowed Hermione to remove the negligee. The girl did it painfully slow, far too slow for Bella's patience. She started by running her hands slowly up Bella's thighs. The higher her hands roamed, the higher the tiny dress rose. Legs slightly parted, Bellatrix felt as the silk and lace uncovered her sex. She could feel the young witch drink in the sight of her arousal, and it made her burn even hotter. She waited impatiently as Hermione's hands climbed higher, over her hips, her stomach, over her breasts until finally, it was up and over her head and on the floor.

Pale hands held the Gryffindor's sides and slipped down her slim waist as the student did her work on the teacher.

Young fingers teased dark nipples until they were erect enough to cut glass. Warm palms massaged her plump breasts. It felt wonderful, but it wasn't what Bellatrix wanted. It wasn't what she _needed_.

"Hermione," she moaned as the tip of the girl's tongue licked around the crest of her ear and her hands continued to massage her breasts.

"Yes, Professor," she answered playfully. Before Bellatrix could respond, teeth sunk into the sensitive flesh of her neck and all that came out was a low, guttural moan.

"'Mione…" she groaned and tried to press her hips closer to the girl. "I need you… Hermione…"

The young witch chuckled seductively and gave one of her nipples a sharp pinch. "And you'll have me, as soon as I'm done playing."

_Since when does she toy with me like this?! _Bellatrix growled and thrusted her hips to accentuate her desire. When it became apparent that the brunette was adamant of taking her sweet ol' time, Bellatrix couldn't take anymore. She needed release.

With a sound that was part growl part moan, she pulled the young witch by the hair so she could look into her eyes. She wasn't a woman to beg, but when Bellatrix wanted something, she was damn well going to get it!

There was a loud, wet _pop _as Hermione's mouth disconnected from one of her breasts and a slight yelp escaped her lips as her eyes locked with Bella's dark, fiery gaze. "Fuck. Me. Now!" Bella's words were strong, but Hermione heard the desire in them, not anger. She smiled mischievously and held the woman's gaze.

"But, Bella, I was having fun," she said sweetly and batted her eyelashes like a love-struck teenager. "Didn't it feel good?"

It took all her self-control to keep herself from giggling. As Hermione played the innocent, her hand stealthily slithered down the woman's body and remained poised and at the ready for the proper moment.

"Hermione, please, I need you to – AH! Oh, YES!" Bella screamed as Hermione's fingers interrupted her. They slid through her wet folds as her thumb teased a swollen clit. A single digit teased around the woman's opening for a few moments before Hermione took pity on her lover and entered her deeply with two fingers, then three as her thumb continued to draw circles.

"Oh, 'Mione, Hermione, 'Mione… 'Mione, ahhhhhhh!" Bellatrix screamed as she rode the sudden and powerful waves of pleasure crashing through her body with tsunami force.

Spent, Bellatrix laid on her sheet, a sweaty panting puddle. Smiling, Hermione crawled up her girlfriend's body to curl up beside her.

From the corner of her dark eyes, Bellatrix saw the wide grin plastered over the young witch's beautiful face. She glared at the girl and pursed her lips unamused. "Shut up."

But that only served to throw Hermione into a fit of laughter.

"Bugger off," the dark witch grumbled as she pulled one of her many pillows over her head to hide the blush she could feel creeping into her cheeks.

"Hey, Bella," Hermione said with a poke to her ribs.

"What?" Was the muffled reply from beneath the downy pillow.

"Come out for a second," she coaxed and pressed feather-light kisses to the woman's shoulder.

"No."

"Please Bellatrix?"

"Hmgrmph."

"Pleeaaase?"

"What is it?" Bella grumbled as she removed the pillow from over her head and was suddenly blinded by brown, bushy hair; brown eyes, and pink lips.

Hermione surged forward and pecked the woman's lips sweetly before pulling back to look into those deep, dark pools.

"I love you, Bellatrix," Hermione said, her tone suddenly serious and so full of emotion, Bellatrix fought against the prickling in the corners of her eyes.

"I love you, Hermione."

* * *

Hermione returned to the Room of Requirement just before dawn with the help of Sipsey's handy elf-Apparation. The witch sat on her bed, deliciously sore all over but completely sated. Despite it all; despite having to leave Bella's warm bed at an ungodly hour so no one would notice her absence, Hermione smiled.

It was… amazing, the feeling of being so loved; of loving someone so completely. Hermione wondered how many people could say that they found such a love in their lives. She wondered how many people got to keep those loves when they came around.

Never before had she thought she'd be the silly love-struck woman, lying on her bed thinking of her lover with a grin over her lips and a full-body blush.

While she was in Bella's arms, Hermione momentarily forgot that they were at war; that her friends were out there, somewhere in England hunting down Horcruxes so that, one day, they could defeat the evil dictator that had taken over their magical world. Her momentary lapse in memory would have unsettled her if she wasn't so fricken happy.

From her bed, she heard the soft rumbling snore emanating from Seamus. It was amazing how much one person could change in such a little time. Hermione remembered her fifth year when Seamus was dead against everything Harry and Dumbledore were saying about Voldemort, and now, here he was; one of the most active members of their group of rebels fighting against tyranny in Dumbledore's name.

Hermione recalled how the young man had proved himself beyond measure this year to their cause. All throughout the year, Dumbledore's army had been fighting in their own way. Various graffiti tags lined the old brick walls mocking Death Eaters and sowing the seeds of havoc throughout the castle.

In light of recent developments, Hermione and Neville had agreed that their rebellious actions had to cease, for the safety of the students they were trying to protect. With Neville's grandmother now on the run and the three of them hiding in an impenetrable room in the middle of enemy territory… best not to poke at a fire-breathing dragon without the proper protection.

From beneath her bed, Hermione pulled out her trunk and extracted a heavy sack. Onto her covers, she dumped dozens of gold Galleons. They were all fake, of course, the same fake Galleons she had given to the members of the DA back in her fifth year. With a few muttered charms, these new medallions communicated with the originals. Today, using their new escape tunnel to the Hog's Head, the three of them planned to sneak around Hogsmeade, distributing the fake Galleons to their allies. With Dobby being their go-between, they had been communicating with Aberforth often, and the dour man had given them a fairly complete list of people they could trust in the village and those who would fight alongside them if the school was attacked. Dobby had also distributed Galleons to members of the Order – those Hermione could sneak away to visit herself.

In Hogsmeade, they had the support of Madam Rosemarta, the owners of Zonko's and Honeydukes, Madam Puddifoot herself… So many witches and wizards remained loyal to Hogwarts, even if they refused to join the Order.

Hermione had also given several extra Galleons to Aberforth and the Order members to pass along to Aurors and other allies they could trust… anyone they thought might join with them to defend their school against Voldemort and his army of death.

Hermione was rather proud of her plan. Seamus, Neville, and Ginny all believed it was brilliant to pass them to the Order, and it had been Seamus to suggest they have Dobby deliver them. There was too high of a risk that the mail being sent to and from Hogwarts was being intercepted.

As Hermione sat on her bed, she wished for a window here in their little sanctuary. She left Bella before dawn, and it seemed a waste to be up this early and miss the sunrise. _It'd be wonderful to watch the sunrise with Bellatrix; wrapped in soft robes, with steaming cups of coffee, nestled close together by the window… _


	39. Chapter 39

**A.N. Some dialogue is taken from **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 **_**just to line up the movie/book timeline to this story. Enjoy!**

Draco's chest burned and his legs screamed at the power of his strides as he, Harry, and Ron ran for their lives through the forest. Over the pounding of his heart, Draco could hear the Snatchers scrambling behind them. They were catching up.

He leapt over a fallen log and dodged around a few trees. Over his shoulder, he sent off a few Stunning Spells, hoping one of them hit a mark. On either side of him, Harry and Ron were doing similarly, each dodging trees, leaping over the undergrowth all while attempting to disable their pursuers. The three of them ran as fast as they could, but Draco saw who was following them. There was no way they could outrun Greyback and his other werewolves. There was no time to gather and Apparate.

Twisting and casting a quick _Bombarda, _Draco's foot slipped on a pile of wet leaves and he felt himself fall through nothing before he hit the ground hard, jarring his brain and crushing his shoulder. In the corner of his eye, he saw his spell hit a tree and some of the debris tripped Ron. _We're not going to make it, _the panicked thought filled his mind, but the realisation provided a hail-mary solution.

In a split-second decision, the young Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry's face and thanked Merlin for the lucky shot. His Stinging Jinx hit the young man right between the eyes and his face instantly swelled like he'd been stung by a dozen bees. He scrambled over and quickly pocketed Harry's glasses.

Swallowing hard, Draco then turned his wand on himself and hissed as his face became just as disfigured as Harry's. His vision blurred, and it was like he was trying to see, hear, and breathe through a thick scarf.

"Well, lookie what we got 'ere," a guttural voice jeered in Draco's ear as a giant, paw-like hands grabbed his arms in a vice grip. Even through the haze of the jinx, he could smell the stink of stale alcohol and something coppery and sour on the man's breath. It took all his self-control not to vomit. He knew it was Greyback who had him.

"I know that red 'air," another voice said. He heard Ron grunt in pain and deduced his friend had been punched in the gut. "This one's one o' 'em Weasley blood-traitors. Now, who would be travelin' with a blood-traitor, I wonder."

There was the snapping of twigs and the crunch of underbrush and a blurry face appeared in front of Draco. "Well these two are right ugly," he sneered and let out a loud laugh and moved towards Harry. The other's chuckled sycophant-like around them. "What's your name, ugly number one?" he asked Harry.

"D-Dudley. Vernon Dudley," Harry said.

"Check it," the leader ordered one of the others. Blinking his eyes, Draco tried to recognize the man. It was Scabior; he'd seen him in the Manor a few times over the summer. Draco knew that Scabior liked to think of himself as the leader of the Snatchers and often abused his power against the dimmest of his gang.

"Not here," the man with the notebook said.

"Hear that, ugly? The list says you're lying," Scabior countered.

"The list's wrong, I told you who I am!"

"What house were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin."

"Where's the common room?"

"In the dungeons, beneath the Black Lake," Harry said confidently. Draco wondered how in the name of Merlin Harry could know that!

"We'll come back to you… how about you, blondie? What's your name?"

"Roger Davies. Half-blood," Draco said through thick lips.

"Roger Davies…" Scabior repeated as the other Snatcher leafed through a little notebook. "Yeah, I got it. Ravenclaw, eh? Clearly not smart enough to keep away from blood-traitors, though…"

"So, we takin' 'em to the Ministry? I think the hag would have fun with this ginger 'ere," the one holding Ron laughed.

"Hold on a minute," Scabior whispered as his eyes returned to Harry's disfigured visage. Even though the haze created by the Stinging Jinx, Draco could see the puzzled expression over his face. With his wand, he lifted the shaggy hair covering Harry's forehead and revealed to their horror the disfigured lighting-shaped scar. "Change of plans, boys…" he said as if in a trance. "We're not taking this lot to the Ministry."

* * *

Chills seeped down Draco's spine as they passed through the gates to his home. Malfoy Manor stood dark against the gray sky and few windows were lit. Throughout all these months on the run, not once had he missed the imposing structure or the suffocating feeling of his parents' house.

Scabior dragged Harry by the scruff of the neck at the front of the pack and Draco winced as Greyback's claw-like nails bit into the skin of his bicep through his jacket.

The motley crew paused at the gate. A dark figure approached them from the other side. Long, immaculate black curls fell over the woman's shoulders and down her back, and her body moved rigidly as if constantly fighting something inside her small frame. Where Aunt Bella moved with the unpredictable movements and grace of a panther, and his mother with the elegance of a swan, Aunt Andromeda moved as though her limbs were made of uncomfortably stiff wood. That is, until she drew her wand.

Large, calculating black eyes peered at them through the bars as a red lip curled in disgust. Aunt Andromeda impatiently waved Scabior towards her, and the Snatcher pushed aside Harry's hair aside to present the scar.

With a touch of her wand, the metalwork of the gate recoiled and made an open archway, slithering apart like snakes.

They followed the witch to the front doors, which swung open automatically upon sensing her approach.

Once more, Draco stood inside his illustrious home. It felt colder than he remembered. Seated in front of one of their many large fireplaces were his parents. His father looked like death itself. His hair was limp and ragged, he was unshaven, and the bags under his eyes told the tales of many sleepless nights.

His mother, on the contrary, was the picture of decorum. Her long blonde hair was piled on her head in a neat bun, her sapphire robes draped down her figure immaculately, and there was not a single sign of weariness in her pale features. Only Draco could see the stress in her rigid frame, the tension like a pacing tiger kept under lock and key in his cage.

"Lucius, these boys have a surprise for you." Andromeda's voice was high and clear and just how he remembered it – like shattering glass.

His father rose unsteadily from his chair but managed to stand tall despite his obvious state of inebriation, if the half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey was anything to go by. "What do you want?" he spoke without slur and with the authority the name Malfoy offered him.

"We found these two with the blood-traitor Weasley," Scabior explained. "This one's Roger Davies. But this one called himself Vernon Dudley, only there is no Vernon Dudley on the list."

"What concern is it of ours if his name does not appear on record? It is the Ministry's problem to deal with Mudbloods and such," his mother interrupted coldly. Draco didn't need proper vision to know that his mother's icy blue eyes were trained on him specifically.

Stalking back to Scabior, Andromeda pulled Harry forward roughly and kept her wand across his throat like a knife. She yanked back a fistful of messy black hair back and revealed Harry's scar.

His parents gasped. "Are – are you sure it's him?" his mother asked. Her expression was now more fearful thank shocked. Since her visit with Bellatrix, Narcissa secretly wished the Potter boy would remain unfound for as long as possible for her son's sake. Her blue eyes roved over the young bond trapped in Greyback's chock hold. Her son.

"No, not positive, Cissy. It seems these two ran into a Stinging Jinx before they were captured. But no matter." His aunt waved her wand as if brushing away a pesky fly. "They last but an hour. Then we can call the Dark Lord-"

"And we will once again be in his favour!" His father's eyes widened with the opportunity of redemption.

"What about our reward if it is Harry Potter?" Scabior demanded.

"Reward?" Andromeda asked innocently. "Aren't your lives and service to our Lord reward enough?"

Scabior considered his answer. There was a constant, eerie calm surrounding his aunt, Draco noticed, and it tended to make people very nervous. Whereas his Aunt Bellatrix was always boiling like an active volcano, ready to fully erupt at any second, Andromeda was like a frozen lake. You never knew you were in danger until it was too late and the ice had already cracked beneath you and you were drowning.

"Well, we want to at least keep the sword!" he declared finally. "Reckon we could sell that for a couple hundred Galleons apiece."

"Sword? What sword?" Draco could hear the ice cracking. His aunt's features shifted and her eyes locked on something that made them go wide. There was movement behind him as someone pulled out the sword. "How did you get this?" his aunt hissed in a whisper. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously and Draco tried to shift away from the woman. To his surprise, Greyback shifted with him.

"It – it was in their pack," the man holding the sword answered, his face so terrified Draco would bet a Galleon on him wetting his pants.

There was no warning. _Crack. Splash. _The sword suddenly flew into Andromeda's open palm and spells knocked back each of the Snatchers. Scabior was launched against a pillar, Greyback knocked to the marble floor with Draco and Ron with him, and the third was thrown over the banister and landed with a sickening _crunch _several feet below on the marble flooring. Andromeda's wand arm whipped forward, the tip of her wand transformed into a black, razor whip. The whip wrapped around the last man's throat – the one who'd been holding the sword – and he screamed as he tried to tear at its hold on him. His hands came away bloody, and his screams began to gurgle as the whip sliced open his throat.

Fresh blood poured down his body as he sunk to his knees. The whip retracted and transformed back into Andromeda's wand. Draco watched hypnotized by the pooling dark red liquid until the man fell forward on his face and did not move again.

"Drop them and leave." The command was soft and low, but the Snatchers dropped the boys as if they had burst into flames. Leaving the body of their friend, the three that remained scurried out the door like rats escaping a deadly cat.

"Lucius, Wormtail, escort them to the cellar and bring me back the goblin. I have a few questions for the beast."

Draco felt his father's cold hand latch onto the back of his neck as they were dragged away. Was he surprised his father did not recognise him? Relief that his identity remained hidden from most of the occupants of this house was all he could feel. But his mother recognised him. He knew it.

With a flick of his wand hand, Lucius unlocked the cellar door and the three of them were shoved down the dark stairs.

"Goblin, here!" Lucius shouted into the darkness. There were the sounds of shuffling feet climbing the stairs and then the door slammed behind them.

"Bloody hell! How are we going to get out of this, Harry? The spell's going to wear off soon and then they'll call You-Know-Who!" Ron shuffled to his feet shivering, his hands gripping his red hair in tight fists.

"I dunno, I dunno, let me think!"

"Ron? Harry?" a dreamy voice whispered from the darkness.

"HARRY! RON!"

Both boys shared a look of bewilderment. Harry was the first to recover his voice. "Luna?"

"Dean!"

Fishing through his jacket, Ron pulled out the Diluminator and clicked it. A ball of light floated out and settled inside a broken lamp that hung overhead illuminating the figures inside the cellar.

Across the room, Draco could see the blonde girl inching towards them and their fellow Gryffindor rushing to grab his to friends in a giant bear hug.

"Who's that with you?" Luna asked.

"It's Draco, but don't worry, he's with us – on our side, I mean," Harry assured the girl as they hugged tightly.

"That's nice. Hello, Draco. You look awful – not your usual coiffed self," she observed pleasantly. Dean said nothing, but placed a protective hand on Luna's harm and glared at the young man. At Hogwarts, the two had shared no pleasant encounters, Dean being a Muggle-born.

"Hi, and, uh… yeah…" Draco's words tumbled out incoherently as he passed a hand behind his neck. He avidly avoided Dean's penetrating gaze. Being one of the "good guys" was uncomfortable when encountered with his old victims. The young woman's kind smile had him instantly regretting every evil trick he'd ever pulled on her and Dean's hard glare made him weary without his wand.

"You look just as awful, Harry. Were you bitten by something? Nargles are known to bite if they feel threatened-"

"No, Luna, I wasn't bitten. It was a jinx. Is there a way out? We need to get out!"

"There's no way out," a man wheezed from deeper in the shadows.

"Who's that?" Ron called out.

"It's Mister Ollivander, Ron. He's been down here with Luna some time and they just took Griphook; we've been on the run together and with a few others for a few months 'till the Snatchers caught us," Dean explained. "Harry, what've you been up to? The whole country has gone mad – everyone's been trying to figure out what you could be doing. And what the hell could you be doing with a Malfoy? Far as I know, he belongs upstairs with the rest of the murderers."

"We don't have time now, Dean. We'll explain later, but I assure you, Draco is on our side," Harry insisted as he accepted his glasses from Draco.

Attempting to make himself useful, Draco moved into the shadows to get a better look at the old wandmaker. He seemed a century older now than the last time Draco had seen him. Of course, that had been when he was first brought to the Manor as a captive many months ago. Draco could still remember the day he had first met the wizard; when his mother and father had brought him to Ollivander's for his first wand prior to his first year at Hogwarts'

"_Hawthorn, unicorn hair core, ten inches. Very interesting… your wand wood tells me you are a complicated fellow, young Master Malfoy, and that you will have to make many difficult decisions in your life in order to find yourself on the right path for you. Of all the wand cores available to us, unicorn hair is the most loyal to its wizard – but do not mistreat your wand by enacting dark magic, for it can lead to a deep melancholy, which is also a common trait for such cores…"_

At the time, Draco had hardly paid attention to the old man's ramblings. He had his wand. He was going to be a powerful wizard someday, like his father. Or so he had believed. He was ashamed of how he had treated the wandmaker; with contempt due to his eccentricities and shabby dress.

The old man's skin was grey and he shivered beneath his thin blanket. His breath wheezed in and out with every rise and fall of his chest and his blue eyes were glazed with a fever. "He's not well," Draco said while shrugging off his coat and wrapping it around the frail wizard. "Harry, he needs warmth and medicine or he won't make it. He needs out of here."

"Obviously he needs to get out – we all do!" Dean snapped at the young Malfoy. Draco visibly flinched at the man's harsh tone yet remained by Ollivander's side.

Harry suddenly bent over and pulled out something that shone in the lamplight. It was the shard of mirror Draco had seen him stare at occasionally. What it was from, he had no idea, but Harry seemed to think it could help.

He looked earnestly at the mirror. "Help us, please help us," he whispered to it – begged of whomever he believed was receiving his message. Neither Ron nor Draco had dared ask Harry about the shard he occasionally pulled out and gazed into and now they shared a puzzled look.

Unexpectedly, there was a loud _pop _as something appeared in the center of the room.

"Dobby?" the three Horcrux seekers exclaimed in surprise and disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Dobby had come to rescue Harry Potter of course!" the elf answered happily, his green eyes wide with pride and purpose.

"Does that mean you can Apparate in and out of here? Could you take us with you?" Ron asked.

"Of course, sir, I'm an elf."

"Okay, Dobby, take Mister Ollivander, Luna, and Dean first to, uh-"

"Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Timmuth," Ron interrupted, he fixed first Harry, then Draco with a serious look. "Trust me."

Dobby took Luna and Mister Ollivander by the hands while Dean held tight to Luna and vanished. Just as they disappeared, thundering footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs leading to their prison.

"Quick, someone's coming!" Draco hissed as someone rapidly thumped down the stairs on the other side of the door.

Taking a position on either side of the door, the boys waited silently as Wormtail unlocked the door. Together, they pounced on him. Ron was knocked against the wall, breathless, and Draco was hit with a weak _Stupefy_ and tumbled down a few steps_. _With his silver hand, Wormtail held Harry round the neck, squeezing, choking the life from the boy.

Harry, with what little breath he had, gasped something to the wizard that had his eyes go wide in horror. As if the magical hand had a life of its own, it turned on its owner, and while the hideous man screamed, the appendage crushed his throat in its death grip.

Draco quickly scooped up the wand and ushered them up the stairs. "Come on, we need to get the sword!"

Silently, they hurried up the stairs and through the house, following Draco to where they could hear gasps of pain and raised voices. They peeked over the top of the stairs, partially hidden behind the Snatcher's lifeless body.

In the centre of the room, Andromeda stooped over the small goblin in interrogation. The creature's face and body were covered in tin, bloody cuts from the wickedly sharp dagger the witch held in her hand. "I will ask one more time, goblin," she hissed in a menacing whisper. "How did they get into my vault?"

"I don't know. It's impossible."

"Apparently not!" She slashed across the goblin's cheek.

"Now!"

The boys dashed forward, Draco disarming his momentarily stunned aunt and passing Wormtail's wand to Harry. He blocked a spell from his father while Harry dueled his mother. Draco had not dueled his father in years, not since before Voldemort's resurrection. It was invigorating to see that his skills now matched his fathers. As spells flew around the room, Harry and Draco each felt the lingering effects of the Stinging Jinx fade away. Draco had a moment to enjoy the look of shock and horror pass over his father's face before a shriek of rage rang around them.

"Drop your wands!" Andromeda commanded from behind them.

They both turned and gasped. She held Ron by the hair with the dagger across his neck. "I said drop them!"

The sticks clattered to the floor.

"Cissy, get them." Draco's mother scooped up the wands, her eyes lingering on him. As she stood, her arm brushed his and he felt something drop into the pocket of his robes before she returned to his father's side and stood there stiffly. "Well, what do we have here?" Andromeda singsonged sweetly. Draco felt like cold water had just been dumped into his blood. "It's Harry Potter." His aunt smiled and Draco thought it was one of the most terrifying sights he had ever seen. "And… no!"

"Draco!" his father shouted that one word filled with betrayal, shock, and fury.

"Draco, what on earth are you doing with them?" Andromeda hissed, tightening her hold on Ron.

Draco remained silent. Unconsciously, his eyes looked over to his mother. Her lip was caught between her teeth and her face was deathly pale. In her hand, there were only two wands. Her own and Andromeda's.

"Lucius, what's going on?"

"Draco, son, what has gotten into you?" Lucius demanded as he took a step closer to his son.

"Dearest Draco, come here. I suppose this is some sort of mistake, isn't that right, Cissy? A simple misunderstanding. Did they kidnap you, Draco? Did they use the Imperius Curse on you?"

"No," he ground out between clenched teeth, his eyes hard and cold against his aunt's.

"Cissy, my wand!" Narcissa visibly shook as she slowly pressed the wand into her sister's waiting hand.

"Ron!" Draco shouted as he pulled Wormtail's wand from his pocket and aimed at his aunt. He had never dueled his aunt before but Hermione had told him of the night they brought Harry to the Burrow and the wedding. He was going to try.

In quick succession, he let off three Stunning Spells aimed at his aunt's chest.

Dropping Ron, Andromeda raised her shield and all three spells collided against it and sizzled out. "How disappointing. My own nephew…" she hummed disapprovingly and raised her wand level with his head.

"Look out!" Lucius shouted as he grabbed Narcissa by the arm and pulled her back. Andromeda and Draco glanced up together and Draco felt something yank him back as the large, crystal chandelier overhead fell and shattered where he and his aunt and mother had been standing a moment before. With a _pop, _Dobby appeared before them, fiery defiance in his large eyes.

Seizing the opportunity, Ron rushed over to Draco's parents and wrestled away their wands.

"_Stupefy!" _Draco hit his father in the chest and sent him flying backwards over an armchair.

"_Imperio!" _

All thoughts left his mind. His limbs felt heavy. He tried to think through the fog, he tried to move, but it was like trying to break free of heavy chains holding him in place. One command, one objective floated through his mind and Draco felt the need – the overwhelming necessity – to fulfill this thought. His body turned, and his wand pointed at Harry. "_Stupefy!"_

The boy ducked; the spell missed him by a hair's breadth, and looked up at him in shock "Draco!"

Draco cast another spell. Then another. His face felt slack and his movements were ungraceful.

"Draco, fight it!"

_Fight it? Fight what?_ It was too difficult to think clearly in his own mind. Much easier to follow instructions. He shot another spell.

_Wait, why am I fighting Harry? _Draco tried to lower his arm, but his own limb resisted him.

"Draco, stop!" Ron yelled behind him with Dobby and the goblin.

_Stop, stop, STOP! _Draco's arm froze and Harry's _Experillamus_ hit with such power in his chest, everything went black and his wand soared from his hand.

The blond dropped to the ground unconscious and Ron pulled him by the back of his shirt. Harry turned, his wand raised against Andromeda but before he could engage, a figure the size of a child stood between him and his adversary.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby shouted, standing as tall as he could between the boys and the menacing Death Eater. With a snap, he disarmed the witch and held her wand in his small hand.

"NO!"

Rushing forward, Harry grabbed hold of Ron's coat and Dobby's hand. Coming to, Draco felt a strange dizzy sensation through his mind as they Apparated with the elf. Something flashed silver in the corner of his eye, but then he felt wet sand beneath him and smelled the salt of the ocean.


	40. Chapter 40

"Gin!" Hermione hollered victoriously as she put her hand down with a smug smirk.

"Merlin's balls, Hermione, you're a bloody monster at this game!" Seamus groaned as he dropped his losing hand.

From his cot, Neville laughed at the sorry lad, having already had his ass handed to him by the witch earlier that afternoon.

"Well, it's my turn now," Lavender announced cheerfully. "I have to warn you, Granger, my grandmother taught me, and she swindled goblins of their gold with her skill."

"Give her hell for us, Lav," Ginny encouraged, albeit, with a mournful frown from her seat on the floor, her legs up over her cot as she played with a little flying broom Harry had given her as a gift.

"I gladly accept a challenge," Hermione grinned as she shuffled the muggle deck of cards. This game was a mutual favourite between wizards and muggles. It seemed Gin was just a cultural phenomenon that seeped throughout the country, touching everyone and giving the young Muggle-born more common ground with her Pure-blood classmates-slash-roommates.

A few weeks had now passed since Hermione and the two boys started living in the Room of Requirement. As the days passed, more and more students joined them.

Ginny was naturally the next to join them, after making quite a scene in support of Harry in the Great Hall, and Lavender arrived in the room a week later. After a particularly bloody Dark Arts class, Lavender had stayed behind to help heal some of the wounded students, directly defying the twins' orders and had fled to the Room to escape their flying hexes.

Sometime after Lavender, Hannah Abbot joined them. Hers was an incident involving young Muggle-borns standing for hours outside in the courtyard in the cold, wet March weather, following the Carrows' speech on how "filth like them belong outside and not amongst magical students".

Hannah and a few other sweet souls snuck them food and water as they passed through the courtyard to classes. The young Hufflepuff witch showed courage worthy of the most valiant Gryffindor and asked that the Carrows allow the students in for the night. The girl even accepted to take their place. The next morning, Hannah walked into the room with a horrible fever and a cough that, thankfully, Lavender was able to chase away in only a day.

Gradually, more and more students flocked together in this sanctuary. Three House colours now hung from the walls, and bunk beds had been added to accommodate the added bodies.

"Oi! No one try anything for April fool's tomorrow, yeah?" Ernie called from the top of the bunk bed he shared with Justin. "My nerves are pulled tighter than a centaur's bow with all this hiding out and waiting… I'll be likely to cast a Killing Curse if someone makes me jump."

"Like you could even cast that curse if you tried, Macmillan!" Michael sneered. "Only those whose pure intent is to kill can cast that curse. No remorse, no hesitation, and a strong desire to kill. I reckon only Death Eaters can cast it."

Ernie rolled his eyes and muttered something about 'know-it-all-birds' and turned back to his Quidditch magazine.

Hermione had to agree, Ernie was not the only one whose nerves were frayed. A few days ago, Hermione finally received a message from the boys. The message recounted in great detail the skirmish at Malfoy Manor and the heartbreaking death of their faithful elf-friend.

Hermione wept pitifully on her cot and wished she could have been present at the service, but Harry reassured her by writing that he left a pair of socks she had knitted for him on the elf's grave. Hermione appreciated the gesture and she was sure Dobby did as well. Despite their disagreement on the freeing of Hogwarts' elves, their little friend really did like her various knitted apparel.

Luna had also used the DA coin to reassure them of her and Dean's freedom. After arriving at Shell Cottage, they both decided to remain with Bill and Fleur to help look after Ollivander and to rest and recuperate themselves. Luna had also urged her father to go into hiding on his own.

Hermione was also preoccupied with the news of the boys forming a plan. Draco, after many months of wracking his blond brain for a way into the Black Vault, finally came up with an idea.

During the firefight in his home, Ron had been used as a hostage in the arms of Andromeda Black. Later, safe and sound at Shell Cottage, their ginger friend pulled a long, dark, curly hair from his jumper.

_**I was bloody well positive that one wasn't mine! **_

Was what her friend had written her as they unfolded their plan in the journal. With Bill and Fleur's help, her friends were brewing a Polyjuice Potion; their intended transformee, none other than Andromeda Black herself. Harry and Ron had nominated Draco as the one to drink the potion.

_**Because she's his aunt, ya know? He knows her best.**_

Hermione agreed it was a good plan. Given that the potion took a month to brew – if brewed correctly – they planned to put it in motion May first. Exactly one month from tomorrow. Hermione was – naturally – nervous. Harry and Ron were not the best potions brewers in Hogwarts and Draco had never attempted to brew Polyjuice Potion before. Fortunately, in a stroke of luck Hermione believed they were owed, Fleur was an exceptional potioneer.

_**Potion brewing was my spécialité back during my days at Beauxbatons. **_

Harry and Griphook – their new goblin 'friend' – would be hiding beneath the Invisibility Cloak and Ron would make use of Fred and George's Comb-a-Chameleon and a facial hair charm to disguise himself as a random, bearded Death Eater accompanying Madam Black.

They had very little knowledge of what awaited them once they entered the bank – or if they would even be allowed access to the Black Vault – and that is where Hermione came in handy. With Sipsey and Bella's help, Hermione devoured all information pertaining to Gringotts vaults. From Bella, she learned that the Black Vault was located in the deepest recess of the bank's cavernous underground system of vaults and that there were sure to be many strong enchantments protecting that restricted area. Sipsey, per Hermione's wishes, took several books, scrolls, and loose pieces of parchment from the library on Gringotts – a map of the upper building, an ancient roster of past clients and their vault numbers, articles on how best to guard your vault, and more articles on what was found in some of the most ancient vaults – vaults that had no living owner… but the information Hermione sought most was either very difficult to find or non-existent. With her knowledge of bank robberies – albeit, _muggle_ bank robberies from muggle movies – Hermione hoped to find a map of the vaulting system, a list of current clients and their vault numbers, or something detailing what sort of magical protection would be in place in the deeper, more elite sections of the bank. When Hermione had explained her research plan to Bella, the older witch had been skeptical and told the young student that old wizarding families paid extra for the information on their vaults and the safeguarding magic surrounding and protecting them to remain out of the public sphere of knowledge.

It was with a feeling of great personal defeat that Hermione finally agreed that the most useful information to them would not be available.

Turning her thoughts back to the game, Hermione began to deal out the cards. Solely concentrated on retaining her 'undefeated' status, the brunette let out a very unattractive squeak of surprise as someone came rushing into the Room of Requirement, breathless, panting but yet still yelling something unintelligible at the top of his lungs.

"What the bloody hell has gotten into you, Creevey?" Seamus asked the fourth-year student.

"Dennis, what is it?" Colin pushed as he thumped his gasping brother on the back.

"Someone… prank… Carrows… _really mad!" _

"What?" several voices demanded from around the room.

The young Gryffindor graciously took the offered bottle of Gilly Water from Justin and gulped greedily. Once half the bottle was empty, Dennis took a deep breath, stared into the dozens of expectant eyes around him, and tried again. "Someone pulled a terrific prank on Snape and the Carrows! It's amazing! But problem is, the Carrows are blaming it on all the Muggle-borns… they tried rounding us all up to teach us a lesson, but, luckily, most of us got away. More are on their way now! That's why I ran so fast – I had to warn you that all the Muggle-borns have to stay here now!"

Just as Dennis finished his speech, the disappearing doors opened wide and dozens more students flooded inside hurriedly and the doors quickly shut behind them, as though they knew of their imminent danger of the Carrows.

"How many Muggle-borns do we have in the school?" Hannah wondered wide-eyed at all the newcomers.

"Fewer this year, due to the fear surrounding the Muggle-born Registration Act, but many of us returned," Hermione answered as she counted heads around the room. "In recent years, Muggle-borns have been nearly as numerous as Pure-blood students. Half-bloods make up most of the student body."

"Looks like we have a bunch more roommates…" Terry mumbled glumly.

Even as they spoke, more bunk beds and new hammocks seemed to materialize from the walls and ceiling, and they could hear the bathrooms shifting, hopefully adding more showers and toilets. The Room was fully prepared to house its new tenants.

"Well… we will have to be more organized in here," Hermione said to the masses as she prepared everyone for the new challenges that would arise from so many students living in such close quarters. _Fifty-eight of us. Thirty-nine Muggle-borns. No, forty._

"Hold on, Hermione, before everyone gets cozy, I would like to know _who _pulled this prank on the Carrows and what it was!" Neville demanded authoritatively, stepping forward to the center of the room. Hermione felt like she was watching Professor Longbottom scold his students. "All DA members agreed that the risk was too great and looks like we were right." He finished by gesturing to the group of Muggle-borns still clustered just inside the room.

Two heads hung in shame. "It was us, Neville," one boy confessed from the back of the group.

Two boys, one taller than the other, stepped forward and the others parted, effectively separating themselves from the two. Hermione frowned. _Why does it always have to be Gryffindors? Foolish, hot-headed, over-courageous boys! _

"Sean, Terrence, why the _HELL _are you two so stupid!" Ginny shrieked at the two fear-stricken boys.

Hermione recognized both as two eager-to-prove-themselves fifth-years who tried out for the Quidditch team last year. Both had failed miserably, but Harry encouraged them to keep practicing.

"We were pissed at what they did to us Muggle-borns!" Sean, the shorter one, yelled defiantly.

"We deserve our wands just as much as Pure-bloods like the Malfoys and yet they stuck us outside like dogs that pissed on the carpet!" Terrence fumed, his cheeks red with fury and spit flying from his mouth.

"We wanted to prove that us Muggle-borns are just as powerful as any Pure-blood wizard out there, allowed to walk around with his head held high."

"So, we smuggled in a bunch of Weasley fireworks, a Portable Pond –"

"Like the one Fred and George had when they left because Umbridge was unfair!"

"Yeah – and we charmed a bunch of field mice and rabbits that we caught near the forest to start running around in circles when they heard loud noises."

"So when I was in Muggle Studies and Terrence was in Dark Arts, we set off our fireworks and all the animals we charmed when nuts! Then we both screamed MUGGLE-BORN AND PROUD! My fireworks hit that bitch right in the arse and kind of set one of the desks on fire…"

"Mine scared the hell out of the jackass professor and he tripped over a spastic rabbit!"

"It was awesome!"

"Yeah – Then we ran."

"And most Muggle-borns followed us because _boooyyyyyyy_ were they mad!"

"And as we were escaping their hexes and fiery wrath, we made sure we planned to meet up in the Transfiguration hallway and before the Carrows caught up to all of us, we threw the Portable Pond to block their way so we had time to make it here."

For a few moments, everyone stared in silence at the two Gryffindors. And then, as one, everyone in the Room of Requirement cheered. Even Hermione rolled her eyes and clapped along.

"McGonagall is going to be so mad when she sees what was done to her hallway," Neville chuckled in her ear as everyone one else gave the Muggle-borns – Sean and Terrence specifically – a hero's welcome to their new home.

As the night went on, more and more Muggle-borns – the ones who hadn't escaped with Sean and Terrence – arrived in the room. To keep track of how many mouths the house-elves would have to feed, Hermione made up a list of who was staying in the room and had everyone sign it. _Sixty-seven and counting. _

Dinner arrived via Sipsey in two large cauldrons – chicken and vegetable soup – and several plates of rolls. As everyone mulled around with a roll and a bowl, Hermione and Sipsey silently slipped away.

"Evening, pet," a husky voice whispered from the window as the two Apparated into the dark sitting room.

Hermione smiled at the familiar silhouette and wrapped her arms tightly around Bella's corset-clad waist. "Bella."

"I heard there was a man-hunt for Muggle-borns today. Where you hurt?" Bella's voice was light and curious, but the hands running through her hair and over her back told Hermione that her dark witch had been stressing over her safety all day.

"No, I'm fine. I was in the Room when it happened," she reassured her and pecked her pale cheek. "It was two boys from my house."

A soft sigh escaped ruby lips like a breath and Hermione felt the tension slip out of Bella's body. "Foolish Gryffindor pubescent courage. Join me for dinner?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and took her usual seat across from Bellatrix at the table by the window.

"Sipsey will fetch the Mistresses dinner!" There was a soft _pop _and the elf vanished.

Beneath the table, a high heeled boot found the inner side of Hermione's jean-clad legs and began rubbing. Hermione suppressed a chuckle as Bellatrix pretended to gaze at the darkening sky through the window.

The brunette watched the dying sunlight play over her lover's face. Sometimes it didn't feel real – that she and Bella were together, that they made everyday work, even with the war and their obvious age difference as obstacles.

Hermione couldn't help but hope to live. Coming back to Hogwarts in September, the young Gryffindor had been fully prepared to die fighting for the wizarding world. Now, however, sitting across from such a stunning woman she loved so fiercely, Hermione believed that even a lifetime of moments like these would never be enough. She wanted as many moments with Bellatrix as they could amass.

Turning back to Hermione, Bellatrix was thrown off her guard by the incredibly dreamy, tender look across her young girlfriend's face. "What?" she asked, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

Hermione giggled and shook her head. "Nothing… just, I love you."

A faint blush crept up Bella's neck and she felt her lips being tugged into a smile. "I love you, too," she said and slipped her boot up to Hermione's thigh.

The young woman giggled again and Bella was about to change that sound when there was a loud rapping at the door.

"Bugger," she muttered as she stood and stomped her way to the door and threw it wide. "Yes?" she shouted impatiently to whoever was on the other side.

"Bellatrix, I assume you heard?" a hard Scottish accent spoke from the threshold.

"Heard about what?" the dark witch demanded stubbornly, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Oh, Bellatrix, don't play ignorant! It is very unbecoming," McGonagall chided as she moved past Bella and into the sitting room. "I mean the incident today with the Muggle-borns, the fireworks, and that bloody pond in my hallway!"

"Oh, that! Yes, I heard." Bellatrix rolled her eyes, closed the door and stepped around the irate professor.

"You assured me that Dumbledore's Army was finished with their pranks because the danger was too great!"

"So I thought as well. But it was two boys from _your House _that did it!"

"_My _House? Bellatrix, you cannot assume-"

"I did nothing of the sort! I heard it straight from a very reliable source." Bellatrix motioned to the table by the window and Hermione gave McGonagall a shy wave as she stood.

"Evening, Professor."

"Miss Granger," the professor greeted uncomfortably. It seemed that despite her acknowledgment of their relationship, Professor McGonagall was not entirely comfortable with coming to see a colleague and finding a student. "You know about the incident?"

"Yes, it was two fifth-years, Sean and Terrence. They were acting independently in defiance of the way the Muggle-borns were treated in the courtyard."

"Well, I cannot say I was pleased with it either! But that does not excuse their destruction of school property or their reckless behaviour. Think of the consequences – they could have been disastrous!"

"I understand, but many of the students – especially the Muggle-borns – were proud. Your classes will be missing a few more of them in the coming weeks. Last I checked, we were up to at least seventy students in the Room of Requirement."

"Seventy?!"

Hermione nodded.

McGonagall appeared as though she had more to say, but decided to remain silent. "Very well. Miss Granger, inform the … loyal staff of anything you may require. Goodnight, Bellatrix, Miss Granger."

"Goodnight, Professor."

"Yes, I hope this will be a _good _night for _us, _Minerva!" Bellatrix smirked as she shut the door on the professor's outraged retort.

From the table, Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "You are incorrigible!"

Bellatrix grinned salaciously as she victoriously sashayed back to her seat. "Believe me, pet, that was tame compared to what I have planned for you later."


	41. Chapter 41

"Be light on your feet! Dueling is just as much about your ability to dance around your opponent as it is to be quicker with your wand," Hermione instructed the assembled students as she moved in slow circles around the dueling duos of Dumbledore's Army, guiding the class in another combat lesson.

April would soon be coming to an end and the tension was growing all throughout the Wizarding UK – its foreboding power began to crack the foundation of the sturdy, thousand-year-old fortress that was Hogwarts. Despite the spring weather, everything remained bleak and despairingly lifeless. The trees had yet to flower and the muddy grass gave the grounds an unhealthy hue. The spirit of those living inside the walls of the castle were equally dismal. The only activity which seemed to spark life back into the student body was the DA lessons. These lessons gave them hope.

Hermione wove her way through the pairs of practicing students. With the DA being made up of nearly one hundred students from three different houses, and the Room now housing most of the seventh and sixth years as well as all the Muggle-borns, there was not much room to duel, but they made do.

Easter weekend had come and gone, and with it, more students returned home for the holiday. Several had not come back. The Weasleys had been forced into hiding and Hermione had not yet heard from Ginny via the enchanted Galleon.

The two remaining leaders of Dumbledore's Army chose instead to remain hidden in Hogwarts in preparation for the inevitable battle coming to their doorstep. At the moment, nowhere was safer for them and neither were willing to take a step back from the battle that was sure to come.

Pausing to watch two fifth-years practice their Stunning Spells, the brunette recalled the latest news from the boys. The three were still waiting for their Polyjuice to finish brewing. Like Hermione, they were having a difficult time staying still and their patience was wearing thin. Luckily, the brunette had the DA to occupy her daylight hours and Bellatrix to distract her once the sun went down.

It was now less of an issue to disappear from the Room at night and to come back in the early morning. With so many others sleeping around the Room, one body was hardly missed during the night.

Her third time sneaking out to see Bella, Hermione was a little less stealthy than usual. Whether it was due to how comfortable she had gotten in the Room or how excited she was to see Bella, she couldn't say.

That night, when Sipsey arrived to Apparate her to Bella chambers, Neville was apparently not yet asleep and was still awake when Hermione returned in the early morning.

"So where did you disappear to last night?" he asked her suspiciously as she tiptoed from her little curtained-off room to the girl's loo.

"Nowhere!" she spat in panic. Her body froze like she'd been hit with a _Patrificus Totalus. _

"Hermione, you're my friend and I love you, but you are the worst liar in the wizarding world – especially when you're breaking the rules." He studied her closely and Hermione felt like a specimen under a microscope. "I'm your friend, 'Mione. Why would you want to lie to me?" The hurt was clear on his face.

Shame coloured her own face and a knot formed in her stomach. _What do I do? He's right, he's my friend and it's not right to lie to him… but Bella doesn't want anyone to know; I didn't want anyone to know. Buuuuut… they'll all find out eventually, won't they? We can't hide forever. I don't want to hide it forever!... Screw it. If we live, everyone will find out soon enough. If we die… she won't have to worry about anything!_

With a sigh, Hermione motioned for Neville to move over and she took a seat beside him on his cot. "For the last few months, I've been secretly… seeing someone." Hermione took a deep breath and prepared herself to admit the truth. _It should really be him preparing himself to hear this._

"So you're not with Ron?" Neville interrupted suddenly.

"Ron?! Merlin, no! You thought Ron and I were dating?"

"I didn't, but Ernie and Seamus owe me two Galleons. But anyways, continue," he said nonchalantly.

Hermione swallowed her indignant reply and attempted to control her emotions. This was a problem for later. "Well, I've been seeing someone I probably shouldn't be seeing." Hermione paused to allow Neville to show his shock, but her friend simply watched her with a kind and patient smile.

"It happened by accident, really, but now, we're in love. I've been sneaking away at night to spend time with her."

If Neville was surprised by her choice of pronoun, he did not show it, and Hermione was grateful. The next sentence would contain some of the hardest words Hermione had ever had to confess. She looked down at the floor. Perhaps it would be easier – hurt less – if she didn't see his reaction of horror and disgust. "I… I'm… I'm in love with Professor Black." Her heart felt as though it would explode in her chest. For a minute, she thought she had gone deaf. There was no gasp of shock, no groan of antipathy… just silence.

Hermione hesitantly lifted her face and looked up at the young man, mentally preparing herself for the look she expected to find over her friend's face.

But when she saw him and looked deep into his eyes, Hermione felt tears begin to pool in her eyes.

Neville was grinning ear to ear like a child on Christmas morning.

"Why… why are you smiling?"

"Because, Hermione, you said you're _in love. _That's amazing! I'm happy for you!" The young man pulled her into a strong, warm hug and the tears that had welled in her eyes fell down her cheeks.

"You don't think it's horrible?"

"Of course not! If you had said 'I'm shagging Professor Black', I'd be a little more concerned, but if you love her and if she loves you… you both will be very happy."

"I can't believe how well you're taking this." Hermione breathed a sigh of surprise and relief, shaking her head and wiping at her wet cheeks.

"Why would it be so hard to believe? You're both and brilliant, beautiful, intelligent, and – admittedly – intimidating witches. It makes more sense than you and Ron together, if you ask me," he chuckled.

"But it's…"

"A woman? A professor? I have to agree that women are, indeed, wonderful creatures and she won't be your professor forever. You're nineteen! Plenty old enough and certainly mature enough to make your own choices. You've always known your own mind. Why should I question you knowing your own heart?"

"And the fact that she's twice my age?"

He shrugged. "If the age difference doesn't bother you, why should it bother me? Plus, witches and wizards live sometimes for centuries. Why should we let a little thing like years keep us from being happy?"

_THAT'S WHAT I SAID! _Hermione was ready to burst into tears all over again. She couldn't imagine this conversation going any better. Unfortunately, she doubted it would go this well with Harry, Ron, and Ginny or Mrs. Weasley! Not to mention Draco – _Merlin's beard! IF Bella and I were to ever marry, I would be his aunt!_

"You might have a little more trouble convincing the others, however," he admitted with an apologetic smile as though he had read her mind.

Hermione nodded in agreement. Not very many people would approve of their relationship. For a sad moment, Hermione considered what her parents would say about her and Bellatrix. She repressed an uncomfortable shiver. _My girlfriend and my parents are nearly the same age! _

From the opposite side of the room, a body began to stir. The two Gryffindors shared a look. The conversation would have to be finished at a later date.

"When will you tell the others?" he asked.

"I don't know… probably when this is all over. Everyone has too much on their plates to have this as well."

Neville rolled his eyes as Hermione lifted herself off the cot. "Tell them soon. They deserve to know, 'Mione, they're you're friends and have always stood by you. I'm sure they'll all understand. Eventually."

Hermione nodded and grabbed her shower kit.

Back in the present, Hermione watched her friends continue practicing. From her pocket, she pulled out the DA coin. With so many members out of Hogwarts, Hermione kept the fake Galleon with her at all times in case anyone had news. _Nothing new. _

Off in the corner of the room, _Potterwatch _recounted the latest developments out in the outside world. Beyond the castle walls, even in the Muggle world, life was incredibly austere. Hermione saw the dark clouds looming – both the figurative black clouds of impending disaster and present turmoil, and the coming rain clouds that seemed to have settled permanently over the United Kingdom this spring.

Startled gasps yanked Hermione's attention towards the immobile portrait. Arianna was still absent – the girl rarely appeared on their end of the tunnel, and when she did, all she did was silently observe them, much like a wildlife photographer would study a herd of exotic mammals. The young woman never spoke – Hermione doubted she could speak – or simply chose to only speak to Aberforth.

Passing through the empty portrait, a familiar misty smoke the colour of moonlight filtered into the Room. From the mist, an animal shape began to take form. Magical light solidified into two horns, a long neck, four legs ending in cloven hooves, and a shaggy body. Aberforth's goat Patronus was something Hermione had gotten into the habit of seeing. Since Dobby's death, they no longer had the little elf to be their messenger.

"_Send no one through the tunnel," _the Patronus said with the gruff tones of the bearded, blue-eyed barman of the Hog's Head. "_Snatchers and Death Eaters everywhere. Making regular, random inspections of Hogsmeade shops and residences. Not safe. If urgent, send a message. Response means safe. No response, probably dead." _

_Cheery as ever… _Hermione nodded to herself as she listened to the message. The tide was coming in and if they were not careful, they would all soon drown. Everyone under Voldemort's command was searching high and low for Harry and the net was tightening. Soon, Harry would be out of escape routes. They got lucky at Malfoy Manor. Hermione doubted they would be so lucky again.

The young witch still firmly believed that the battle would soon be coming to Hogwarts, and eventually, Harry would need a way into the school undetected. They would have to be clever and careful. Therefore, the portrait tunnel must be protected at all costs.

As the Patronus disintegrated, Hermione's thoughts drifted to the little elf that had often been the intermediary between the pub and the school. Dobby had accepted the role as messenger with pride and fulfilled his duties with the utmost dignity. He was helping Harry Potter, after all.

Dobby provided them with a much safer way of communicating back and forth. Many of the students in the Room could not perform a corporeal Patronus through which they could send messages to the pub, and the owl post was simply out of the question. Both parties had agreed that constantly passing between portraits would be: one, far too risky, and two, a huge invasion of the barman's privacy.

Their cover story was also bullet-proof. If certain individuals asked why a Hogwarts house-elf was popping in and out of a dingy pub, Aberforth would simply reply that there were certain members of staff in the school who often enjoyed a bottle of Firewhiskey or elvish wine. It was a well-known fact among staff and local pubs and residents of Hogsmeade that both were a particular favourite of Bella's.

But now the elf was gone. It was horrible to think that that night anyone of her friends could have died in Dobby's place. Poor, sweet little Dobby was the kindest soul Hermione had ever met in her life. She was positive that the loyal, loving elf was glad that he could help his friend Harry Potter one last time. _Dobby, you are eternally free._

Dobby's death was yet another reason why Hermione hated that witch, that evil, _evil, _demented, dangerous Black witch. Every day, she would regret having ever thought that Andromeda Black and her Bellatrix resembled each other.

All of a sudden, a familiar _pop _turned her attention yet again away from her lesson. She turned to see a small, blue-eyed elf standing confidently in the center of the Room.

Panicked, Hermione's heart leapt up into her throat. "Sipsey?" she choked; her voice unnaturally high and strained.

"Professor Black requests an audience with the leader of Dumbledore's Army, Hermione Granger," the elf proclaimed clearly and proudly.

_Bella has gotten far too bold! _Hermione thought as she wiped her sweating palms over the sleeves of her jumper. From the corner of the eye, she could see Neville covering his mouth with his hand, but his eyes clearly told her that he was grinning madly.

"P-professor Black wishes to see me?" Hermione stuttered, hoping there was something else to add, something to make the summons seem more appropriate in her mind. _And Neville's…_

"Yes, Miss Granger, presently. Professor Black wishes Sipsey to express the urgency of this meeting."

Neville coughed loudly and cleared his throat. "Go ahead, 'Mione. I've got this covered; sounds important."

Hermione could feel the colour rising to her cheeks as she took the little elf's tiny, offered hand and prepared herself for the side-along Apparition.

The last thing she saw before being sucked into the swirling vortex of Apparition was Neville's smirking visage shooting her a knowing wink.

Hermione landed unsteadily in Bella's chambers and Sipsey immediately disappeared with a _pop. _The house-elf had done this often enough to know that once Hermione was with Bellatrix, her presence was no longer required until morning.

Hermione looked around and suddenly, midnight curls and deep and dark eyes filled her vision, like night falling in a fraction of a second.

"I'm going to be an aunt!" the dark witch screamed.

"What?" Hermione's mind was still processing Bella's sudden proximity and the volume of her voice. Words were not yet being catalogued in the brunette's highly retentive brain.

"I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT!" Bella screamed again with absolutely no more clarity than her first declaration. The woman grabbed Hermione by her shoulders and shook her excitedly as if it would help the young witch understand.

"But… you're already an aunt, Bella… twice over, in fact…" _Has she mixed elvish wine and a potion for curing hiccups again?_

"I KNOW! Okay, I'm going to be a _great _aunt; A GREAT AUNT!"

Finally, the witch's words clicked in Hermione's mind like someone flipping the switch to an electric bulb.

"Dora's having her baby?!" she squealed, gripping Bella's biceps with equalled excitement.

"YES! Remus just sent me the owl – we're heading over now," Bella said as she began dragging the young witch to the burning fireplace.

"Wait, _we? _As in, you _and _me? I'm going as well?"

"Of course!" Bella stopped and turned to face the love of her life, her expression suddenly intense and completely serious. Bellatrix had never expected she could care for someone so deeply or ever imagined that she could fall so quickly, so madly in love. The fact that Hermione questioned the fact that she would be joining her at the birth of Dora's child made her ashamed. Had she failed somehow in showing Hermione how committed she was to their relationship? Did she not understand that there was _no one else_ or that there never would be again? Hermione Granger had effectively ruined her for life. For the rest of her life, Bellatrix knew she would never be truly content without this singularly brilliant, lovely, wonderful witch by her side.

_Now I just have to tell her that… _

"Hermione…" She gently took both of the young woman's hands in her own. Her thumbs caressed the calloused fingers, made rough by their constant task of flipping thousands upon millions of pages in the innumerable amount of books the witch had read. "I love you. I love you so much that I don't think I could ever stop, even if I wanted to – in fact, I _couldn't _stop loving you even when I did try. I also know that I could never love anyone else. I want you to be a part of my life. Forever. That means we will always be together – for the small things and the big things." Bella's pale hand lovingly stroked Hermione's soft cheek, her thumb breaking the trail of joyful tears falling from honey-colored eyes and traced down a youthful face and dripped off a trembling chin. "I want to tell Dora today. I want my family to be together; I want her to see her entire family; I want that baby to see his or her family."

With more salty tears flowing in rivulets down her face, Hermione pulled Bellatrix into a strong hug and wrapped her arms securely around the witch's shoulders. Bella quickly returned the embrace, and Hermione melted into the arms that circled her waist. "I love you, Bellatrix," she whispered and the two shared a brief, but passionate kiss.

"Come on, love, I don't want to miss the birth of my great-niece or nephew." Bella grinned, her own eyes rather watery as well, and threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames of her hearth.

Haloed by green light, Bella looked back to her still-leaking girlfriend and chuckled. "Dry up, pet." She pulled out a monogrammed emerald handkerchief from her robes and dabbed at the corners of Hermione's teary eyes. "Dora's should be the only blubbering baby present tonight!"


	42. Chapter 42

Green flames engulfed her entire body as she turned, twirled, and tumbled through the Floo Network. After what felt like an eternity of travel – but which could only have been a few moments – she stumbled out of the fireplace at their desired destination and quickly righted herself. Her nerves were pulled taut as she waited for her companion to emerge from the flames. Waiting had never suited her.

Finally, the second witch fell through the blaze, tripping over the hearth and nearly face planted on the soft, threadbare carpet.

_My graceful little witch, _she mused.

As expected, there was no one in the cluttered sitting room to greet them. Summoning her courage and expertly donning a mask of calm, she took her girlfriend's hand and began leading the young witch through the small, homely house. She never paused to glance at the moving pictures on the walls – in several of which she was a prominent figure.

Up ahead, Bellatrix could hear soft, soothing voices and the rough, strained, clipped tones of a woman frightened and in pain.

Inside the master bedroom, the two witches found the newly married couple, as well as two Medi-witches, specialized in home births.

Bella's dark eyes immediately fixed on the young woman lying on the bed. Dora's red face was covered in sweat and her natural mousy-brown hair clung to her forehead in messy strands. Her knees were bent and her legs parted widely in preparation. Bella was grateful that the head of one of the Medi-witches was blocking her view of what was happening down there.

At the side of the bed, Remus stood ramrod straight and was trembling anxiously. He chewed on his short nails and kept tapping his foot; his own forehead damp with sweat and his hair disheveled. He didn't notice the two new arrivals until the second Medi-witch smiled towards the doorway and greeted them pleasantly, "Hello, you must be Dora's Aunt Bella. She's been asking for you."

Remus looked to the dark witch standing in the doorway and some of the rigidness in his body faded. "Bellatrix, you're here!" his voice was relieved and close to hysteria. "They said it shouldn't be long now. Her contractions are moments apart and –"

The rest of his update was suddenly cut short by an ear-piercing howl from the soon-to-be-mother.

"Your baby will be here very soon, dear, but don't start pushing yet," the witch between Dora's legs soothed in a very relaxed, practiced tone.

Once the contraction passed, Dora reopened her eyes and took deep, calming breaths and tried to forget the pain. Her blurry vision fixed on her beloved aunt standing in the doorway but it was the figure behind her that caught the brunt of her attention.

"Hermione?" Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the young witch half-hidden behind Bellatrix. "What are you doing here?"

The young witch's eyes went wide as a Mooncalf's as she struggled to come up with a plausible reason for her presence in the doorway to Dora's bedroom.

"She's here with me, Dora, I'll explain later," Bellatrix explained briefly as she took the seat on Dora's other side. She took Dora's sweaty hand in hers and held tight to the closest thing she had to a daughter.

Hermione watched transfixed as Bella went into full mom-mode. She lovingly soothed the young woman as another contraction tore its way through the labouring woman and pushed back the hair stuck to her face. "Why hasn't she been given a birthing potion?" she demanded from one of the poor Medi-witches.

"She didn't want it," the one between Dora's legs explained.

"Ridiculous! Administer it now!"

"Aunt Bella, I am – _ahhh – _a high-level Auror – _owwwww _– with an immense tolerance for – _gaaaaa! – PAIN! MERLIN'S HAIRY BALLSACK IT'S WORSE THAN THE CRUCIATUS CURSE!_" Dora's eyes squeezed shut and her hand crushed her aunt's strong fingers. "I – GET ME THE BLOODY POTION!"

The standing witch smiled kindly and produced a small bottle of orange liquid and passed it to Bellatrix, who helped Dora's trembling hands pour the potion down her throat.

Thought Hermione had never before witnessed a birth, she knew of muggle Epidurals, an injection in the base of the spine to help numb the pain of childbirth. She assumed that this birthing potion had similar effects and thus concluded that the magical method was far more appealing than having a needle stuck in your back – even if the potion tasted as horrible as Dora's reaction lead her to believe.

"Come here, pet, no need to loiter in the hall." Bellatrix motioned for the young witch to join her at Dora's bedside. After a brief moment of hesitation, she made her way closer to Bella and Dora. Lost for words, Hermione tried to give her friend what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Another contraction soon had the young woman panting, screaming, and cursing like Hermione had never heard before.

Unable to watch Dora without becoming ill, Hermione's eyes wandered around in search of something else and settled Remus, who wasn't faring much better than his wife. The man's clothing was askew; his hair messed from his nervous fingers constantly running through it. He watched his wife with rapt attention, occasionally remembering that he should be soothing her rather than panicking internally.

From the foot of the bed, the Medi-witch made a small huffing noise and called for her colleague. "Tamsin, come here." She tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear and continued to gaze thoughtfully between Dora's legs.

Tamsin, a younger witch who seemed to be an assistant to the elder, obeyed and looked up into the tented area between Dora's legs. "Should we give her another potion, Gloria?" she asked.

"A half dose," Gloria replied as she pulled on a pair of gloves. "And a Drought of Peace for the father."

"What is it? Why does she need another potion? I demand to know what is going on!"

"Professor Black, there is no need for any panicking –"

"I am not panicking!"

"I am; what's wrong?!" Dora yelled, her eyes shooting between Bella, Remus, and Gloria like a terrified new-born owl.

"Don't fret, dear, your baby is just hoofed. It will be slightly more painful to push while the child is in this awkward position," Gloria reassured her.

"Hoofed?!" Hermione's stomach dropped. _Her baby has hooves? _

The silver-haired witch smiled kindly at her. "I assume you are Muggle-born, dear. In the magical world, all creatures with hooves are born feet first. 'Hoofed' is what we call it when a baby's feet are positioned to exit the birthing canal. The Muggles call it 'breech position'," she explained patiently with a kind smile. She reminded Hermione of an old wise woman; patient, knowledgeable, warm, and kind.

On the other side of the bed, Tamsin instructed a particularly green-gilled Remus to take a light purple potion and then she passed another, smaller bottle of orange potion to Bellatrix for Dora.

"Alright, dear, it's time to meet your new baby. On the next contraction, I want you to start pushing. Okay?"

"Okay okayokayokay." Dora visibly tensed and prepared herself for the shockwave of pain the contraction would push through her body. It took merely a few seconds before she was gritting her teeth and screaming through the pain of the first push. Although the potion relaxed the muscles in the lower body and numbed some of the pain, Dora could still feel the birth canal widen further. It hurt like a son of a bitch.

Gloria was prepped and poised to receive the baby with her gloved hands while Tamsin pointed her wand towards the baby and muttered a few spells under her breath that would help widen the canal, speed the labor process, and create a lubricant to ease the baby's passage into the world.

"Very good, dear. Take a few moments to breathe; the next one will be along shortly."

"You're doing wonderfully, Dora. Just think of your little baby; it'll be over soon," Bella whispered in her niece's ear as the young woman held back sobs.

Remus was now sitting partially on the bed stroking his wife's hair and placed a gentle kiss to her temple. "I love you, Dora, I love you so much. I am going to love this baby so much; I am going to try my hardest to be a good father and I know you will be a fantastic mother."

"I love you, Remus – _AHHHHH!" _

Dora began pushing again with the contraction and Tamsin muttered more incantations.

"I have the legs," Gloria announced, her concentration focussed on the visible portion of the baby and ready to receive the rest. She felt bad for the poor young woman – by the sounds of it, her body was resisting the potion and Tamsin was having a difficult time keeping the vagina opened magically. Once they were ready to pass the arms, it would require all of their efforts – a tremendous amount on the mother's part.

Hermione watched the miracle entranced. Out of habit, her hand gravitated to Bella's arm, seeking familiarity and comfort. She squeezed through the fabric of the woman's robes and Bella covered it with her own shaking hand.

Though Bellatrix normally exuded an aura of control, pride, and integrity, tonight she felt, deep inside herself, completely and utterly out of her element. Her little Dora was in pain and she could not ease it. Remus was terrified and she could not reassure him. Behind her, Hermione placed a comforting hand on her arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. Bellatrix placed her hand overtop it, needing the touch. If only she could help Dora the way Hermione helped her.

"Alright, love, another push."

Dora screamed as she pushed and crushed Bella and Remus' hands. More of the baby emerged.

"Come on, dear, he's halfway out. Another push!"

"HE?!" the four of them screamed in unison, all equally surprised and elated.

Gloria and Tamsin grinned. "Yes, _he_, dear. Your son is on the way. PUSH!"

Tamsin summoned all her magic and all her knowledge of births. For her twenty-five years, seven years in the medical world since her graduation from Ravenclaw, she'd seen quite a few births. This one, however, was the most difficult. Rarely did the mothers have such a strong resistance to the birthing potion and her magic was doing very little to aid the birth. And the fact that the baby was hoofed made everything incredibly more difficult and risky. It was during births like these that she considered the muggle C-section to be a safer, albeit a more intrusive, method. Gloria, being a Muggle-born, often tried to explain the miracles of muggle science. For most Pure-bloods, the mere idea of cutting a woman open to retrieve the baby was barbaric and they surmised that it couldn't possibly be done correctly by simple muggle doctors.

Dora pushed harder and harder. She screamed louder and louder. Beside her, Bellatrix bit her lip and Remus had tears streaming down his face. Hermione stood transfixed, her eyes rhythmically oscillating between the Medi-witches and the family.

Tamsin watched as her magic, combined with Gloria's gentle and practiced touch, slowly opened the woman wider. At the head of the bed, the father was muttering repeatedly to his wife, "Come, Dora, come on. You've got to push; we want to meet our son!"

Soon, the difficult task of removing the arms and shoulders was passed and the head came out easily. In her arms, Gloria held a perfectly healthy baby boy. With a quick _Diffindo, _the umbilical cord was cut, then clamped, and Gloria took the baby to be cleaned. While the senior Medi-witch attended to the baby, it was Tamsin's job as assistant to check on the mother.

After every birth, as a precaution, they administered a Blood-Replenishing Potion to avoid vaginal hemorrhaging. The mother took the coppery concoction like a champ and both parents accepted another small dose of Drought of Peace, under the scrutiny and advice of Professor Black.

Professor Black had been one of Tamsin's favourite professors during her years at Hogwarts and the years since her graduation hadn't changed the woman one bit. It was odd to see the stoic woman as one of the many frantic family members she'd come across in her line of work. And for the life of her, Tamsin could not figure out why the imperial professor would bring in tow a student to the birth of her great-nephew. As far as she knew, Hermione Granger was a Muggle-born, and therefore, there were no possible family ties linking the renowned Golden Girl to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

With the parents sufficiently calmed and the baby cleaned, Gloria and Tamsin began packing away their equipment while the family gathered around their newest member.

"He's… he's so tiny…" Dora sobbed. She held her little boy so carefully in her arms like he was made of glass. The newborn wailed a high-pitched shriek. "What if… Remus, I can't hold him!"

"Shhh, shh, of course, you can." Remus kissed the top of her head and wrapped an arm around her. "You're his mother. You won't hurt him." The man wiped at his eyes. His smile was luminous with fatherly joy as his little boy's tiny hand gripped his pinky with surprising strength. Dora bounced the babe in her arms and made low, fervent _shushing _sounds. After what felt – to Bellatrix – like ages, the baby finally calmed down and began to drift off, safely nestled in his mother's arms.

"Have you thought of a name?" Hermione inquired softly as she gazed down at the little bundle falling asleep in Dora's arms. His face was red and his eyes squinted shut. He had a black tuff of hair that Hermione would bet a few Sickles on being softer than moleskin.

Father and mother shared a look that only people in love could understand – the universal mind-reading that both Muggles and Wizards had in common.

"Teddy, after my father. Teddy Remus Lupin," Dora answered with an adoring smile as she gazed at her child.

Bellatrix's eyebrows shot to her hairline. Before the incident, Ted had been a dear friend to her and a wonderful brother-in-law once he and Andy were wed. Every time she thought of his name being smeared by Voldemort's lies, her heart broke all over again. They had never learned the definitive truth of who tortured Andy, but Bellatrix refused to believe that Ted would ever do such a horrible thing willingly. He loved Andy more than anything and he had been beyond excited to be a father. To have Ted Tonks's memory honoured and his name beard by his grandson… Bellatrix felt the corners of her eyes begin to tingle and itch and found she could not swallow the lump forming in her throat.

"Remus, hold him." Dora raised her arms and the new father gently lifted his son into the cradle of his arms.

"Hello, Teddy."

Remus held his little boy with all the pride and joy of a new father. He could not begin to understand how he had helped create such a beautiful, perfect _person. _The reality of it still baffled him. He was a _father_! Finally, after seventeen years, Remus _finally _understood what James had tried explaining to him after Harry was born.

"_You'll understand one day, Mooney, when you find someone you love more than life. And then, you both will create this perfect little person that's half you and half her. And when you're holding your child in your arms, you'll look at her, and she'll look at you, like an unspoken promise – whatever happens, no matter what, you both will give everything to protect the innocent creature you created. Everything." _

At the time, Remus believed he would never understand the feeling James and Lily spoke so often about; the all-consuming love of a parent for their child. Would someone ever love him, he had often wondered. _Could _someone love him? A monster? Would someone risk having a monster as the father of their child? Or a monster _as _their child?

Now, when he looked at Dora and when she looked at him, Remus _truly, finally _understood. He would do anything to protect them – his family. Absolutely anything.

Remus looked down at his son. Ted. Teddy. Little Teddy Lupin. He felt his heart swell inside his chest and he remembered an old Muggle Christmas story Lily had once read to Harry – something about a Grinch whose heart grew three sizes in one day.

With more tears welling in his eyes, Remus looked at his wife. _I will do anything to protect them… _he vowed. _Which means… Dora cannot fight in this war. Teddy needs his mother… _

On the other side of the bed, Bellatrix and Hermione could not take their eyes off of the little bundle now back in Dora's arms.

Remus didn't quite understand what the young Gryffindor was doing here, but he knew better to question the decisions of a Black. He trusted Bellatrix would explain soon enough. He hoped, at least.

Anyways, it felt appropriate to have Hermione with them. Along with Harry and the Weasleys, she was part of the extended family they've all built throughout the years. Which reminded him…

"Dora, I've got to tell Harry. And I've got to ask him –"

"I know, darling, go. I'll be alright." His wife smiled at him again and he lightly rubbed his son's soft hair. In the little time he'd been out of his mother's womb, Remus would swear his hair had turned from midnight black to an auburn-ginger. He chuckled. "He takes after his mother." With one last look at the small gathering in his bedroom, he dashed to grab his cloak and Apparated away.

"Aunt Bella? Would you like to hold him?" Dora asked quietly. Teddy was now fast asleep as she softly placed him in Bella's waiting arms.

The dark witch gazed down at her great-nephew and felt a tidal wave of nostalgia flood her tear ducks. She thought back to the first time she'd held Dora. She had been the first, since Andy couldn't… _My little Dora is a mother… _she thought wistfully, her eyes misting. _She is all grown up. _

As Bellatrix held little Teddy, Hermione watched the dark witch's features attentively. Though Hermione had always seen herself as a career woman, she could never shake the motherly instinct that seemed to infect a large portion of her gender. One day, when the time came, she wanted to be a mother. _Would Bella ever want children again? _she wondered.

"So, 'Mione, why did my barmy aunt bring you to this horror show?" Dora asked as she stretched and winced at the lingering discomfort in her overworked body.

Hermione froze, her index finger hovering over the infant's tiny, delicate fist. Her eyes jerked up and fixed on Bella's face. No reaction crossed the witch's expression, but in her eyes, Hermione saw the sudden uncertainty. _Did she change her mind about telling Dora?_

Bellatrix remained silent for many moments, undoubtedly choosing her next words with painstaking care. Dora felt her heart begin to beat faster as she waited for her aunt to answer. _It must be something difficult to tell me… something must be wrong! _Her Auror instincts tried taking over – her attention focused on the potential problem, she assessed her assets, her senses sharpened – but her training had not prepared her for the depletion of strength and utter exhaustion of childbirth.

"Dora…" Bellatrix began and cleared her throat. "Dora, I… my career has been the focal point of my entire life since I graduated. And then I raised you and had to change careers to be the caregiver you needed and deserved. I've never regretted anything in all those years – especially raising you. But recently, I've come to realize, that I've been so focused on everything going on around me that I never took the time to really understand or care about what was happening inside me." Bellatrix paused but did not raise her eyes from the little face of her great-nephew. His hair was now a white-blond, much like a Malfoy's.

Dora watched her aunt carefully and attempted to predict where this confession was headed. It was true; Aunt Bella hardly ever took a moment to care for herself. She was always busy with something. In all her life, Dora had never felt neglected – she had the best guardian one could hope for! But in recent years, she couldn't help but begin to consider how much her aunt _didn't _focus on herself. Whether it was to forget the troubles of her past, to avoid troubles of the future, or simply her choice, Bellatrix was always a confident woman who had time for everything but nonsense and her own problems.

_But what does she mean by something _inside her? _Is she sick? _

"For a long time…" Bella continued, her gaze lingering on Teddy before locking with Dora's anxious and currently dark eyes. The woman's hair had gone from its happy pink to a light, chalky grey, indicating that she was quickly getting more and more worried about this conversation. "For a long time, until a little while after you left, I never realized how _lonely _I'd been feeling. But of course, once I realized it, like all my other problems, I buried the feelings and hid them beneath layers of whiskey, pride, and denial." Bella could see the confusion furrow between her niece's brows. "Well… as it turns out…" Bellatrix leaned down and carefully placed Teddy in his mother's arms. She stood tall. She was sure. She would do this. She looked over at Hermione, her beautiful, caring, intelligent, _brilliant _Hermione smiling so sweetly at her and lovingly wrapped an arm around her slender waist and pulled her flush against her side. "I'm not lonely anymore."

Hermione breathed deeply and encircled Bella's waist with both her arms. With her eyes partly hidden by Bella's mass of curls, she couldn't see Dora's look of surprise and only hear her gasp. Against her, she felt Bella's body tense, prepared for the rejection the dark witch anticipated. Hermione held her tighter.

"So…" Dora started and let out a long breath, her eyes wide and her hair snow-white with astonishment. "You… and her… 'Mione and… Aunt Bella…" she stuttered.

All of a sudden, a cackle sounded throughout the room, startling Hermione out of Bella's embrace and a deafening newborn scream pierced the air. Hermione looked at Dora in mild terror. _Why, in the name of Godric Gryffindor is she laughing? _

Dora had suddenly, without warning, burst into an uncontrollable, manic fit of tear-inducing laughter. Woken by his mother's unexpected outburst, Teddy had woken up frightened and saw fit to let the world know of his unpleasant awakening.

"You find this _funny?" _Bellatrix demanded. Her posture went from anxious to defensive and menacing in a nano-second, prepared to put anyone in their place, including her beloved niece.

"Are you… not comfortable with this?" Hermione asked as she tried soothing the tense tiger before she pounced.

"It's not – that I'm not comfortable," Dora gasped out as she attempted to control her breathing and calm her shrieking son. "It – makes sense! I just – need a minute for it to sink in." The young mother took several deep breaths and used several minutes to sooth Teddy back to sleep. "Hermione, put him in the bassinet," she whispered and passed the sleeping bundle to the Gryffindor, who placed him in the white lace bassinet behind her and Bellatrix.

"Explain yourself, young lady!" Bellatrix hissed as Dora wiped at her teary eyes with her bedsheet.

"You've got to admit, it's a bit of a shock, don't you think? It's not every day that you learn that your aunt is shaking up with one of her students that's half her age."

"We're not shaking up!" Hermione defended, colour rising to her cheeks.

"Well, whatever you're doing –and no! I do not want to know what you're doing. I do not need these images in my head!" Dora slapped her palms over her eyes in exaggeration.

Beside her, Bellatrix silently fumed. Hermione could tell she wanted to yell at the woman on the bed but also didn't want to risk damaging her hearing if Teddy woke again.

"But… you're okay with this? With us?" Hermione asked again. She placed her hand on Bella's lower back and massaged in small circles – something she learned calmed the older woman while she was tense.

"I suppose. As I said, it makes sense." Dora suddenly smiled mischievously. The effect reminded Hermione far too much of her girlfriend's impish smile. "I guess Remus owes me ten Galleons!"

The brunette stared, stupefied, at the witch. "What, is _everyone _betting on my love life?" the young woman seethed. "Did he bet that I was seeing Ron, as well?"

"Who the hell thinks you're seeing Weasley?!"

"Remus thought that Hermione and Ron would get together by the end of their seventh year. Honestly, I couldn't see it one bit. Between us, I like Ron, but he can be pretty thick sometimes; bit of a nob, too. No, Hermione needed someone smart; someone who challenges her. And who is more challenging than my dear Auntie Bella?" Dora smirked_. _She watched as Hermione grinned affectionately at Aunt Bella and embraced the prickly witch.

Dora felt her throat tighten as Bella subtly leaned into the girl's touch. _Oh, yes. This couple will work out. _

"But do I have to call you Aunt Hermione?"


	43. Chapter 43

The bleak and dreary weather that hung perpetually over Hogwarts stretched over across the United Kingdom, reaching from the remote and secret location of the castle in Scotland to another secret location on the coast of England.

Shell Cottage was normally beautiful and vibrant in the spring, he remembered. The end of April often signaled the sprouting of a rainbow variety of wildflowers, gardens, thick and luscious grassy dunes, and light spring showers that smelled warm and salty. This year, however, Ron couldn't seem to recall all the fun he and his siblings used to have while visiting their aunt here in their youth. The sea, the sand, the fields, and the sky were unrecognizable in this gray, monochromatic weather.

Inside, he assumed Fleur was finishing up with the Polyjuice Potion while Bill started lunch. Harry was off again, wandering around the cottage in his usual sort of far-off trance. It seemed to be getting worse. Though they decided not to tell Hermione – no need to worry her more for something none of them could really control – Harry's visions of Voldemort were getting more frequent and more powerful. As far as his best friend knew, You-Know-Who could not tell that Harry was seeing through his eyes or feeling his emotions. These hints into You-Know-Who's activities had helped them put pieces of this giant puzzle together over the past months but it worried them nonetheless that Harry and he were so linked; that Harry had no control over what he saw or when he saw it.

Behind him, he could hear the sounds of light footfalls crossing over the damp sand and stop just a little way back – a respectful distance away but not far enough to not be heard. _Draco, _he thought. No one else would have thought to give him the extra space he'd been craving during their month of 'rest and relaxation'.

"What?" he spat without turning around. His blue eyes remained strained on the distant swells of the ocean that were yet another shade of murky gray. The ebb and flow of the waves were beginning to grate on his nerves. No matter how many waves the ocean pushed on to the shore, they always returned; never making any real progress onto land and each time being forced back to the beginning.

"Fleur said the potion is finished," Draco called to him over the sound of the wind and waves as he, too, watched the waves roll off the shore. "Harry wants to go over the plan for breaking into Gringotts."

"Why don't you scream it any louder?" the ginger hissed and spun around to fix the blond-haired young man with icy eyes. He shook his head and gave an exasperated sigh. He wasn't really mad at Malfoy, of course, but old habits were hard to break. This last month felt too much like the few weeks he'd deserted his friends in the forest – sitting around unsure of what to do while others did the work he couldn't do himself. He did not enjoy the reminder of his betrayal or his ineptitude. _'Mione will definitely kill me for abandoning them... _"Sorry, mate, just… tired or something." The apology was forced, but it was still a huge improvement on their previous relationship.

Draco nodded and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. Even without the enchantments they used to disguise him at the wedding, Ron doubted any of his Death Eater mates would recognize him now. His usually immaculate blond hair was long and shaggy. Soon, he'd be able to tie it at the base of his skull, much like Malfoy senior did. He had also begun to grow a stubbly, light-coloured beard that gave him a little more of an adult look that almost suited his long face. It was his clothes, however, that really changed the young Malfoy's appearance. Gone were all the silk robes and shiny shoes that cost more than Ron's father made in a month. Draco stood there in the same clothes he'd worn the day before – old, faded jeans of Harry's; one of Ron's green jumpers over a ratty t-shirt, and a pair of trainers they'd nicked from a small store in some muggle town they passed in back in August. They'd all agreed early on that it would be best to dress as Muggles while on the road. It would make for more of a convincing story if they told people they ran into that they were three friends taking a year off of school to go backpacking through the UK.

"Bill also said that lunch was ready," Draco added, knowing the mention of good, warm food lightened Ron's mood significantly. He turned around and made his way back to the cottage. It was amazing how well he fit in their little group. Draco didn't force his presence where it was not wanted and he allowed everyone to have their own space. But neither was he distant nor absent when they all got together to discuss their next step. Ron could hardly believe that he now considered Draco Malfoy a _friend. _

Ron breathed in the scent of the salty sea air and thought back to another time he'd sat on a beach deep in thought. His mind's eye conjured up the image of a smart, beautiful Gryffindor with long, curly brown hair. _Merlin's balls, I'm such a bloody idiot! _

It'd been just after he and Lavender broke up last year. _More like right after she dumped me… _he could not believe what a fool he'd been! They'd been dating for months by then, and he was happy! Lavender was a shining light in the gloominess that had surrounded him after Hermione's rejection. He and Lavender had just celebrated their fifth month anniversary with a picnic by the Black Lake when one day during a Hogsmeade trip, Ron had foolishly stated – after perhaps a few butterbeers – that Hermione and Lavender looked like sisters. The comment had made both young witches equally uncomfortable.

By then, Ron had confessed his old feelings for their female friend and Lavender had been trying her best to restrain her jealousy. That comment was a reminder of her insecurity; another straw on the camel's back. The last straw, his _giant _mistake of troll-sized proportions was one night after he and Lavender'd had another fight about Hermione. Ron was insisting there was nothing going on; that Hermione felt nothing towards him and he only loved her as a friend, while Lavender demanded to know why there were a bunch of heart-shaped chocolates in his school bag. He'd tried explaining that they were Harry's; that he'd found them on his friend's bed and nicked a few, wanting to give one to her. Lavender had scoffed and marched away, leaving Ron fuming and insulted.

Angrily, he'd torn into a few of the chocolates and gobbled them up so she couldn't have any – a childish response to the fight. After that, all he could remember was a cloud forming in his mind and feelings of weightlessness, euphoria, and uncontrollable glee rushing his system.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the Hospital Wing with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione by his side. The three of them took turns telling him how he'd ended up there and why Lavender refused to see him.

Apparently, the chocolates he'd eaten were infused with a bloody strong love potion meant for Harry from Romilda Vane – another curly-haired Gryffindor. After he'd swallowed about six, the clouded, dream-like feeling had come over him and he'd run all around the school searching for Romilda. Once he'd found her, he'd confessed his – albeit, drug-induced – love for her and claimed that Lavender meant nothing… all while Romilda was having dinner with her friends. Including Lavender.

After that – and the small incident where Lav threw a goblet of pumpkin juice at him – Harry had come to his rescue and dragged him away to Slughorn's office for a cure. There was a blip of clarity in his memory where he remembered a deep feeling of regret and depression. Slughorn then offered him a pick-me-up that nearly killed him. Apparently, the sparkling mead was poisoned and Harry had saved him by shoving a bezoar down his throat.

After his recovery, he'd meant to explain himself and apologise profusely to Lavender, but there'd been little time before Dumbledore's death and their new hunt for the Horcruxes. For similar reasons why Harry tried to break-up with Ginny, Ron chose not to start things up again with Lavender.

But now, sitting alone by the seaside in the miserable weather, he wished for nothing more than to be able to hold Lavender in his arms and wait for the war to be over.

Gloomily, he stood, and with his fists deep in his pockets clutching the necklace Lavender had given him so long ago, he turned his back to the waves and went inside.

* * *

_**Hermione, the potion is finally finished! Fleur finished it this morning and we're all ready to execute our plan. Tomorrow, Draco will take the potion and dress like Black, Ron will disguise himself as another random Death Eater with long, ratty hair and a beard, and I will be hiding beneath the cloak with Griphook. Hopefully, Black's reputation is enough to get us inside the bank without too much hassle. Once inside and at the vault, Draco will use the vial of his mother's blood mixed with his own to gain access. Once inside, we'll be hunting for the Horcrux. They have a certain feeling to them – a darkness that pulses around them – and I can normally feel it pretty strongly, which will help a lot. **_

_**Once we have the Horcrux, we'll destroy it there. We'll have to return the sword to Griphook and **_**Obliviate **_**the goblin. Once we're out of Gringotts, we'll be safe and with one more Horcrux destroyed! Dumbledore told me that Tom Riddle was extremely arrogant and would therefore only choose items of extreme value as his Horcruxes. He already had a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin and a ring that belonged to his maternal grandfather, another of Slytherin's heirlooms. It isn't too much to think that he would want to have something that belonged to each of the other Hogwarts founders as well. There is a cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff and maybe something that belonged to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. He was also rather superstitious. Riddle believed that 7 was a magically powerful number, and would have wanted to create 7 Horcruxes. **_

_**I know, this sounds like a lot of guesswork and you'd be right to say exactly that. But, Hermione, I have a really good feeling about this. It will work. We will win! We have to. **_

_Typical Harry… ever positive, even when the sky seems darkest. _

_**All our love – Harry, Ron & Draco **_

_**P.S. Remus and Dora had their baby! AND THEY ASKED ME TO BE GODFATHER! I suppose you already know, Remus mentioned that you were there with Professor Black for the birth. Kind of odd, don't you think? But, come to think of it, she's always been one of the strangest professors. Right after Dumbledore! **_

With thin lips and a small crease between her eyebrows, Hermione cleared the journal and hid it away. Whenever she had a moment, she wondered how her friends would take the news of her relationship with Bellatrix. Harry she wasn't too worried about, but Draco's reaction… and then Ron's… and her parents and Ginny and the Weasleys –

_Too much to think about! _Hermione's head began to swim with her swirling thoughts and she subsequently shoved them away and packed them into a tiny box in her mind, to be unpacked later.

In the Room, her roommates were keeping busy doing whatever they could to occupy their minds. Many kept practicing; preparing themselves for the imminent fight. Others were gathered around the radio listening to the latest airing of Potterwatch. She had no doubt Ginny and Mrs. Weasley – wherever they were hiding – were doing the same and that Ron was in Shell Cottage listening as well. Lavender sat beside the Patil twins and Hannah listening fervently to the broadcast, her hand absentmindedly playing with her locket which, Hermione noticed, she kept around her neck at all times. Since news traveled around that Ron and Harry were on the road trying to defeat Voldemort, she'd begun to wear the matching necklace she and Ron wore while they were dating. Nothing overcame a broken heart like fear for the one you cared about.

At the other end of the Room, students were discussing the latest gossip traveling around the castle. It wasn't much; just that Snape had been spotted back on school grounds and the Carrows were up to more of their pranks on first-years, but it kept their minds off of the long list of deaths and missing persons that droned out of the magical radio.

Unable to sit silently and listen to the broadcast with the others, Hermione decided that occupying her mind and body with practice would do well enough. The coming days would be extremely long and tiresome – filled with tense waiting, boredom, and the overwhelming sense that something very bad was on its way to them.


	44. Chapter 44

**A.N. Some dialogue is taken from **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 **_**just to connect this story and the events from the movie and books. Enjoy!**

"Hermione!"

The brunette was suddenly snapped from her troubling thoughts by a loud creaking groan, rushing footsteps, anxious voices, and an agonizing cry. She threw her privacy curtain open and pushed her way through the crowd that had quickly formed in front of the vanishing doors to the Room of Requirement.

"Let me through." Hermione forced her way past the gathering of stunned students and finally emerged into the small circle clustered around Neville. A pit formed in her stomach. Something was horribly wrong.

Neville's back was to her and she could see that he was not alone. A few people had just entered the Room and by the sounds of the whispered hypothesis already whizzing around, they didn't bring good news. In the midst of the chaos, the crying grew louder.

"Everyone, stand back! Lavender, they need help!" The second brunette suddenly appeared through the crowd at Neville's holler and the young man stepped back to allow the young witch to tend to the wounds of the new arrivals.

Hermione gasped when he eyes landed on Seamus. One side of his face was entirely covered in blood from a large cut above his eye – which was already swollen shut – and he walked with the help of a Ravenclaw boy with torn robes and a broken nose. Several other students resembled their state. Five students in total, each with their own assortment of wounds. Hermione looked around once more. Six of them had gone out on a recon mission into the school to find out any new news earlier that morning.

"What happened?" Hermione asked and helped Lavender guide them over to their beds. There were at least a few broken bones here; she would probably have to contact Bella to get her more medical supplies from the infirmary or better yet, to smuggle Madam Pomfrey here herself.

"The Carrows," Seamus hissed as he was lowered onto his cot. "Something's happened out there, and You-Know-Who is downright pissed – which means the Carrows are, too!"

"Normally they just throw a bunch of hexes and nothing worse than the Cruciatus at us when we're out," the Ravenclaw student continued explaining as Seamus grit his teeth as Lavender cleaned his head laceration. "Apparently it wouldn't look too good to the wizarding world if You-Know-Who's lackeys started killing young wizards in school, right? Especially if they happened to hurt a Pure-blood." The boy took deep breaths and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve.

"But today… they were throwing lethal spells, you guys." Seamus' face twisted in pain as Lavender dabbed his head with antiseptic and wiped away the blood. Down his face, a single streak of skin was cleared through the smear of blood. Hermione had noticed the tears streaming down their faces. She examined each of the faces surrounding Seamus' cot. She recalled who had ventured out into the castle that day. Someone was missing.

"Brandon?" Hermione whispered. The sixth-year Gryffindor had been one of them to organize regular recon missions into the castle. It was their only way of hearing any news, anything from gossip to Death Eater movements, and rebellious strikes outside their walls.

The five students who had returned couldn't meet her eyes.

Behind her, Hermione heard another strangled cry. Justin, Brandon's boyfriend, sat curled in a tight ball, his head tucked away behind his knees as he struggled for breath between wracking sobs. "They – got – him!"

A heavy silence fell throughout the Room. A large weight slammed into Hermione's chest; she felt as though she'd been punched and had the wind knocked out of her. They'd been hurt. They'd been tortured physically and emotionally. They'd been cut off from most of the outside world, imprisoned; hiding like rats in their own school! But never in these halls had they lost part of Dumbledore's Army.

"What could have happened?" Neville asked, his face ashen. "Why would they suddenly want to kill us?"

"No idea," a sixth-year Gryffindor who had come back with Seamus answered.

"But we did hear that You-Know-Who is on his way with his army," Terry offered as Lavender inspected his dislocated shoulder.

"Something happened on the outside… something that would enrage the Death Eaters…" Hermione whispered to herself, her brain finding answers her heart wished she didn't know.

"Like what?" Neville asked.

Without looking at any of them, Hermione rushed back behind her curtain and quickly found the last message the boys had sent that morning.

_**Wish us luck. Heading to Gringotts. Soon, another Horcrux will be destroyed! **_

_They did it… but Voldemort found out… _

"He knows Harry is on to him," she breathed.

"Hermione." Neville pushed aside the curtain and quickly closed it behind him. "What is it? What do you know."

"Harry's plan – what he's been doing to stop You-Know-Who all this time – he finally knows, You-Know-Who know! I don't know how, but I _know! _It's the only thing it could be."

"What can we do?"

"I don't know!" Hermione ran shaky fingers through her curly mane. "I don't even know where Harry and the others are now. They could even be –"

"NO!" Neville took her forcefully by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. "They are not dead! He would not be furious and on his way here with his army if Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived was dead! It must mean that Harry was successful in whatever he was doing and maybe they're on their way here." Slowly, Hermione's panic ebbed away and reason took over once more. "We've been preparing for this," he took a deep breath, "we knew the war would be coming here. Now it is."

As Neville spoke, Hermione's eyes drifted back to their last message from early this morning. The blank, ivory expanse of paper below Harry's messy script taunted her. Suddenly, there, before her very eyes, a new message began to appear. Five little words written in black ink magically flowed over the page, staining the two journals identically for perhaps the last time. Five little words that made Hermione unbelievably happy, but yet filled her with such dread. She knew the meaning behind each character.

_**We are coming to Hogwarts**_

_War has arrived._

* * *

Draco flinched as a deafening wail sounded deep, deep in his skull and in every fiber of his body.

"What the bloody hell is that?!" Ron yelled over the racket of the Caterwauling Charm. Even though the three of them were all crowded beneath Harry Invisibility Cloak, Draco still had difficulty hearing him.

"A warning. We have to move!" Harry grabbed each of them by the sleeve and dragged them deeper into the shadows by Dervish & Banges.

"IT'S POTTER! Get him!"

"Come on out, Potter; we know you're there!"

"Take off the cloak, Potter, and we'll let you live!"

"Go – FIND HIM!"

Draco's heart began pounding faster as Snatchers spread through the night like scavenging vultures, out for blood.

"We have to get to the Hog's Head, Hermione said there was a passage that'll take us into the school," Harry whispered in the tight space of the cloak. Two tattered wizards rushed passed and they shrank deeper into the shadows.

"This way." Draco ushered them through the previously silent streets. Crouched backbreakingly beneath the cloak so their feet wouldn't show, rushing through the little hamlet dodging Snatchers and Death Eaters left and right – Draco wondered to himself if this was what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had done for six years, fighting Voldemort's allies and the Dark Lord himself, all while in school and underage. _How could they have possibly survived this long?_

"Harry!" Ron screamed all of a sudden. Draco exhaled and his breath passed his lips in a cloud of steam. The puddles on the street at their feet turned to ice and the blood ran cold in their veins.

"Dementors…."

Three black and cloaked figured rushed towards them from the sky, hands outstretched as though they could grab their souls right from their beating hearts.

_Death Eaters be damned! _Draco pulled his wand and quickly cast a Patronus. A white swan flew from the tip and attacked the three demons, its large, snowy wings beating them away while its beak ripped molding fabric from the ghoul's decrepit bodies.

"Draco, no!"

"OVER THERE! I SAW A PATRONUS!"

They kept running. Their hands grasped desperately at the cloak, but their attempt at stealth was futile; their feet were clearly visible as they pounded down the cobbled road.

"THIS WAY!"

The Snatchers were gaining on them, but in their rush, the three were turned around, trapped in an alley identical to all the other alleys in Hogsmeade. How could they possibly find the Hog's Head now?

"Where is it?"

Stopped in their tracks, the air around froze once more. More Dementors peeled themselves from the shadows and steadily advanced on the three, trapping them in the alley with their darkness and suffocating presence. They had no way out. They were going to die. Voldemort will win. There's no hope.

Snapped from his thoughts by Harry's movement on his left, Draco all pulled out his wand along with Harry and Ron. There was no other escape. It was either the Dementors or the Snatchers. With the oppressive magic of the dark figures, the boys all made the same decision.

As they prepared to cast their Patronus Charms, a four-legged beast suddenly materialised, running head-long at the barrier of Dementors. The phantom-like creatures fled, but the beast was not finished. It's cloven hooves pounded noiselessly down the cobblestones, ramming its horns at any Dementor within range.

"Potter, this way!"

The young men turned in shock at the gruff, hissed whisper coming from a dark alley they had just run past, where the Patronus had emerged.

"Who –"

"Hurry; they're coming!"

Angry shouting grew louder, heading towards them from down the street. The three, torn between the threat of possible danger, and the approaching band of Snatchers and Death Eaters, made a quick, fight or flight decision.

The alleyway engulphed them and plunged them into near darkness and they ran towards the voice. The street lamps from the streets only reaching so far past the building rising on either side of them.

They followed closely behind the large shadow until they came to the end of the alley where, across the street, stood the dingy pub they'd been searching for.

The four rushed across the street, the man in front of them suddenly brightly illuminated as they passed beneath the glow of a streetlamp. His long, scraggly gray hair reached far down his back and over his broad shoulders. From behind, they couldn't tell much, but to them, their potential saviour seemed now… familiar.

Shouting trailed them down the alley, and the older man quickly opened the door to the pub and all but pushed them inside ahead of him.

"Barman!" one of their pursuers shouted as the owner of the Hog's Head was just about to shut his door. "What were you doing out past curfew? You see anyone else?"

"Not a living soul," replied the barkeep as he tried again to close his door.

A large, darkly robed Death Eater stepped forward, his foot wedged between the door and the frame. With a large hand, the Death Eater pushed the door open a few more inches and sneered at the old man. "Come now, barman, don't lie to us. We know you were out after curfew, that's enough to close your establishment here for quite some time. Now, why don't you just be honest with us and tell us who you saw?"

The old man grunted something unintelligible deep in his throat. "The truth? The truth is I saw no living soul besides you lot chasing shadows and making enough racket to call the trolls down from their mountains!" He tried once more to close the door, but the Death Eater would not budge.

Behind him, Harry, Ron, and Draco huddled as close together as they could in the shadows, still beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"This man's a dirty, rotten liar, Jugson! There's no way he missed that Patronus out there! It was a giant stag – Potter's stag!" whined a thin, ratty-haired Snatcher at the head of the small gathering outside the pub.

The old man let out a loud bark of laughter and swung the door wide open. The three hidden figures by the staircase flinch.

"A stag! Oh, you dolts really need your eyes checked – that was no stag!"

"Of course, it was! We all saw it!"

"It had antlers!"

"How do you know it wasn't a stag, barman? You said you saw no one else," Jugson argued and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the old man.

"I know because I cast it, you morons!" With a wave of his wand, the old man conjured a silvery-white Patronus before them. It stood silently on four legs, its horned head coming up to about even with the skinny Snatcher's chest. "You see? My Patronus is a goat. Not a stag."

The malfeasant group remained silent for a few moments while they examined the Patronus. The skinny Snatcher slowly backed away from the front of the group, hiding amongst the fold.

"That still doesn't explain what you were doing outside after curfew," Jugson pushed, his voice hard and skeptical.

"Well, I don't exactly fancy those Dementors of yours floating around here, even at night. We were assured that they'd stay far away from residential areas of Hogsmeade, so I went out there to chase them off!"

Jugson let out a huffing breath and turned to glare at the Snatchers behind him. Clearly, he was the leader of this small party and if anything were to come from this little adventure, it would be on his head. He turned back to the old man and fixed him with a stiff glare. "Don't let it happen again, barman, or we'll have your place closed down before you can say the Dark Lord's name."

"Thank you for your understanding," the old man responded with mock gratitude. "Free ale whenever you stop by, sir." He quickly slammed the door shut and bolted it, then cast an enchantment over the warped wood and motioned for the three invisible fugitives to follow him up the creaking staircase.

He led them into a dusty sitting room with a few old armchairs and a small table facing a stone fireplace. Overtop the cold hearth hung the portrait of a young girl with red hair, blue eyes, and a soft, kind smile.

"You can take the cloak off now. No one will see you."

Harry, Ron, and Draco suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. The cloak was haphazardly folded and stuffed into the pack on Ron's shoulder. "Thank you, sir. I'm –"

"Potter. I know. It's hard not to know you lot. Though, I'm surprised to see a young Malfoy here. Aren't you more comfortable with those pals of yours that just left?"

Draco bristled and straightened his back beneath the old man's stare. "I left the Death Eaters. I've been working with Harry ever since he went on the run after the attack on the Weasley wedding. We've been working day and night on defeating the Dark Lord and –"

"Well, you've all done a fantastic job there!" The old man chuckled to himself and busied himself with lighting a fire and putting on a kettle. His movements were mechanical, like a well-oiled machine performing its duty with precision and practice.

From the corner of his eye, a flash caught Draco's attention. For a moment, he thought he was looking at Harry through dirty window… but Harry was behind him. "Harry… I can see you in this." He turned to see Harry looking up from the shard of the enchanted mirror he kept tucked away in his sock. He looked back to the mirror. It was missing a rather large piece.

"Who gave you that?" Harry asked the old man.

He stood and fixed them all with an icy stare. "Mundungus Fletcher. About a year ago."

"Dung had no right! It belonged to – "

"Sirius. Albus told me."

"Dumbledore told you? Why would he tell you? You're just a – "

"A what? The owner of a dingy, little pub? And where would you be without this owner of a dingy little pub?"

"So, it was you who sent Dobby to us!" Ron chimed in, pieces fitting together after so much wondering.

"Yes. And I'm sorry he's dead." The man shook his head mournfully and grabbed the whistling kettle and poured four cups of tea. "Don't pretend you know anyone here, boy," he said suddenly, returning to their previous point, "especially me or that fool Albus!" He sighed and conjured a tray of sandwiches, which Ron gratefully dug into. "I knew him a lot better than you think. Better than all of you."

"You're Aberforth, then. Dumbledore's brother," Draco said and Harry stared in astonishment, baffled at how could he have missed it! With the connection made, all Harry could see were the physical resemblances between this man and the old Headmaster. The tall frame, the long hair, beard, and the blue eyes…

"This is a fool's errand you're on – he cannot be vanquished," Aberforth spat.

"Yes, he can! Dumbledore even –" Harry began in earnest.

"Dumbledore?!" the old man barked. "If this is one of Dumbledore's schemes, you were doomed from the start!"

"Look, I don't care what happened between you and your brother so long ago; I don't care that you've given up. I trusted the Dumbledore I knew – I still trust in the mission he left for me! He was working towards something that he knew would get him killed but he did it anyway because it was right! And now that he's gone, it's up to the rest of us to finish what he started; to finally vanquish You-Know-Who once and for all."

Aberforth watched Harry carefully. His expression might as well have been written in elvish for Harry had no hope of deciphering it. Finally, the old man gave a curt nod and Harry thought he saw the hint of a tiny smile beneath the mop of hair. "You sound just like her – that friend of yours, Hermione. You talk about my brother the way she spoke about you the day she talked me into helping a bunch of foolhardy children."

"So, you'll help?" Ron asked hopefully around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Aye, but not for my brother; for those foolish kids he roped into this mess. And for that girl that won't leave me alone…"

The three boys grinned triumphantly and with pride. That was their Hermione!

Aberforth strode toward the flickering fireplace, his eyes centered on the large portrait above the mantelpiece. He touched the wooden frame gently – almost lovingly – and in a soft voice, said, "Arianna, you know what to do."

The young girl in the portrait nodded and turned away from them, walking towards the background of the painting until she was a tiny speck on the horizon and then, finally, disappeared.

"Where is she going?" Ron asked.

"You'll see."

Not long later, the tiny black speck reappeared on the canvas and steadily grew larger as it approached. This time, however, something was different. It was not until the speck was halfway to the foreground of the portrait did it shift and separate into two human forms. One was definitely the girl and the other…

"Is that…?" Ron began before the portrait suddenly swung open to reveal a large hole behind the picture frame – a hole large enough for someone to walk through if crouched.

"Hey, guys!"

"Neville!" the three young men yelled in astonishment.

"Hey, Ab, we have more students coming your way; they need out before all hell breaks loose."

The old man nodded. "Off you go now." Aberforth ushered them along until all three climbed the mantelpiece and were inside the rough tunnel. The portrait swung closed behind them and they were plunged into darkness, but despite the lack of light, Harry felt more hopeful than he had since they left the Burrow so many months ago.


	45. Chapter 45

**A.N. Some dialogue is used from **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. **_

The three followed Neville down the dark tunnel; their illuminated wands helping them avoid tripping over one another in the narrow passage. For them, it was almost unbelievable that they had made it this far – full circle, back to where they started this mission with Dumbledore. For some of them, at least. Draco rubbed his sweaty palms down his jeans. He did not enjoy remembering the last night he had spent here at Hogwarts. The Dark Mark on his arm burned as a reminder of his crimes and attempt at redemption.

"Neville, what happened to your face?" Ron asked after several paces from the opening of the tunnel.

"A little gift from the Carrows," he chuckled, trying to make light of his injuries, "I'm sure Hermione's told you about them – brother and sister Death Eaters that have been working in the school as professors."

"They hurt you like that?" Harry winced. He'd had his fair share of injuries at Hogwarts, but Neville's face resembled someone who'd been beaten in a boxing ring. His shiner shone a dark purple in the light of their wands and the many scratches over his face appeared fresh.

"This? This is nothing. You should see Seamus – he was just out scouring the castle for news today and got pretty banged up, but it's nothing Hermione and Lavender couldn't fix." A shadow passed over his face. From years of living in the same dormitory as the young man, Harry knew there were details he left unsaid, but he decided to leave them be. They had to focus on their mission.

"How are they? Hermione? Lav?" Ron asked and pushed Draco behind him so he could look Neville in the eye.

Neville chuckled. "They're both fine, Ron, I promise. Lav has a real knack for healing, you know? She wants to work at St. Mungo's after all this."

"What about everyone else?" Harry asked nervously.

"Ginny's in hiding with the rest of the Weasleys and hasn't been back since Easter. Everyone else… besides a couple of injuries here and there, they're okay." His dark expression returned. "But we… we just had one death. Today, actually. We're all a little shaken from it." Despite his somber expression, Neville tried to smile and clapped Harry on the back. "But now that you're here, it'll give them the extra boost of hope and courage we all need."

Harry tried not to interrogate his friend while they crept through the secret passage. When they reached the end of the tunnel, Neville motioned for all of them to stay behind him. A bright light pierced their eyes as the second portrait opening swung open and Neville addressed the crowd gathered beneath them. "Hey, you lot! Aberforth sends a surprise!"

"AW, not more of his bean soup, Neville! My stomach's still rolling from the last batch," Seamus yelled over everyone's heads. The room resonated with subdued laughter.

Neville said nothing but smirked and motioned for Harry to step forward. The response from the students was more how Harry imagined a rock star to be greeted by fans. There was a sudden hush where not one sound was uttered, and then a roar of applause and cheers that beat against their eardrums, but lifted their spirits so high, Harry felt embarrassed that it was all for him.

The four of them climbed down the ladder and were immediately swallowed by the tide of friends and classmates cheering for them and thanking Merlin for their safe return. Although he was not showered with the same attention as the returning Gryffindors, few people seemed to be bothered by the fact that Draco was with them. Hermione must have given some speech to convince them all that the former Pure-blood bully was now truly on their side.

Out of the masses, Lavender rushed forward with deft accuracy and speed, completely bypassing Harry, to throw her arms around Ron. And then, from just outside his field of vision, Harry heard a half cry, half sob, and was attacked by a mass of tears and curly brown hair. His arms tightened around Hermione and he held her close, beyond happy to see her, feel her, to know once and for all that she was alright.

Hermione embraced each of her friends desperately to her as tears of relief washed down her cheeks. _They're alright, they're safe – for now – they made it back!_

Off to the side, a new _Potterwatch _broadcast was being sent out, Nigel repeatedly shouting into the receiver, "Lightning has struck, I repeat, lightning has struck here at Hogwarts!" Hermione knew that soon, all members of the Order would understand the none-too-subtle message of Harry's return, and using the fake Galleon, she alerted the Oder and their allies on where to find the secret passage.

After several moments of cheerful reunion, Neville sobered the mood. "So, Harry, what's the plan?" he asked.

Harry looked over the crowd watching him expectantly, all of them trusting him to lead them through the upcoming fight. Could he truly lead them? Was there even a plan to pass on to them? He decided he could at least try to explain they were looking for the next Horcrux.

"We're looking for something hidden here in the castle, it may help us defeat You-Know-Who," he said loud and clear.

"Right, what is it?" Neville urged.

"We don't know," Harry answered.

"Where is it?" asked Terry.

"Don't know that either," Ron replied.

"I realize that's not much to go on…" Harry began.

"That's nothing to go on, Harry," Seamus said.

"We think it has something to do with Ravenclaw," Draco offered from behind the others. "It would be small, easily concealed, and probably valuable." Silence descended over them as everyone pondered as to what this mysterious object could be and how it could possibly help them defeat You-Know-Who.

"Could it be Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem?" Luna's dreamy voice carried out over the silence. She and Dean had returned the day before, when Harry, Ron, and Draco broke into Gringotts.

"But Luna, the diadem's been lost for centuries," Cho argued with a sigh. "No one alive knows where it is."

"Can someone please tell me what a bloody diadem is?" Ron demanded exasperatedly.

"It's sort of like a crown, or a tiara," Cho answered.

Hermione, during this time, had put together the pieces the boys had been picking up along their mission. Voldemort had chosen so far: his personal diary, a ring and locket having belonged to Salazar Slytherin, a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff. Something of Rowena Ravenclaw's – the diadem seemed like a logical possibility – would make five and Nagini - Voldemort's snake - would be the final Horcrux if Voldemort had only divided his soul into seven, as Dumbledore had speculated.

In the befuddled silence, the portrait above them swung open to reveal several figures. Lee Jordan, accompanied by his best friends the Weasley twins, and a slim young woman with fiery red hair.

"Harry," said Ginny as her eyes landed on her boyfriend.

"Ginny," Harry said as he stared that the young woman he'd been dreaming about for six months.

"Six months she hasn't seen me and now all she sees is him – I'm her brother!" Ron whined as the others chuckled.

"Well, little brother, you know there's no one quite like Harry Potter," Fred teased as they all descended the latter.

"You should have heard her at home, mate. It was 'Harry this' and 'Harry that'! You'd think she was in love with him or something, eh?" George joked.

If Ginny had eyes for anyone but Harry, her glare would have burnt holes through her brother's head with its intensity. As it was, her gaze never left Harry's.

Behind them, more and more members of the Oder were arriving, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebot, and Remus among the first.

"Harry, we Apparated as soon as we got Hermione's message, what's the plan?" Remus asked as he wrapped an arm around the god-father of his newborn son. Hermione peered up towards the tunnel and was much relieved to see that Dora was not among the Order members. She would be furious, having to stay home with Teddy, but at least they would both be safe.

"HARRY!"

"Colin, what on Earth's gotten into you?" Neville stared wide-eyed as the boy rushed up to the gathering army.

"Snape knows you were spotted in Hogsmeade; he knows you're here. He's called an assembly in the Great Hall – for everyone!"

Harry shared a look with his friends by his side while the other students and allies watched him anxiously. Everyone's mouths inched upwards in a smile as they all had the same thought.

"Let's not keep the headmaster waiting then."

* * *

Bellatrix stood motionless beside Minerva as students poured into the Great Hall at Snape's summons. The melancholic atmosphere was tangible as well as suffocating. Snape stood resolute at the head of the gathering of professors on the platform. Bella wished for the hundredth time that she could read his thoughts. He seemed calm, but his fingers fiddled with his wand continuously. Standing closest to him, on either side, were the Carrows. He wondered if other Death Eaters felt uncomfortable around the bloodthirsty brother and sister as he did.

The students gathered in rows on the stone floor, separated by House; like battalions in an army. Bellatrix spotted several members of Dumbledore's Army amongst them, but one face, in particular, was missing. Her heart raced. _Where the bloody hell is Hermione?_

The thick doors slammed shut as the last of the students took their places and Snape took a moment before he addressed the assembly.

"Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour." He paused and Bella felt the tension in the room rising. "It has come to my attention that earlier this evening that Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade."

The gathering of students erupted in whispers. Bellatrix herself gave a little start and Minerva gasped beside her. _Is that why Hermione is missing? Does she know? Is she looking for him? Has she found him? Have they been captured?!_

"Now, should anyone – student or staff – tempt to aid Mr. Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression." His black, beady eyes roved over the assembly. "Furthermore, any person found to have knowledge of these events, who fails to come forward will be treated as equally guilty."

The silence in the room was deafening. Bellatrix feared for a moment that in the quiet of the room someone would hear her heart racing inside her chest.

"Now then," Snape continued as he stepped from the platform to walk between the rows of students menacingly as he would as a professor, "if anyone has any knowledge on Mr. Potter's movements this evening, I invite them to step forward. Now."

No one spoke. Not a single student, not one professor. Those nearest to Snape averted their eyes and kept them downcast, as though the stone floor could provide them with safety from Snape's penetrating gaze. Bellatrix had no doubt that the Headmaster was using Ligilimency on several members of Dumbledore's Army – those most likely to have knowledge of Potter.

And then, from the midst of the crowd, a lone figure stepped forward into view. Gasps rang out through the hall as Harry Potter himself faced Snape.

"It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster. And I'm afraid it's quite extensive."

As Harry spoke, the doors to the Great Hall crashed open and many more people stepped forward. They were led by Kingsley Shacklebot, the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, along with Ron, and – thank Merlin! – Hermione made an impressive entrance.

"How _dare _you stand where he stood! Tell them how it happened the night he died! How he looked you in the eye, a man who trusted you and killed him! TELL THEM!"

Snape said nothing in response to Harry's accusations, but in a moment of shock and horror for all assembled, Snape drew his wand and trained it directly at Harry's heart.

In a flash, the students recoiled, backing away until they were all pressed to the walls, as far from the impending duel as possible. Others – the DA and the Order all rushed forward to his aid.

And then suddenly, Minerva appeared by Harry's side before anyone else. Bellatrix had not even noticed the woman moving from beside her!

She was as fierce as a lioness protecting her cub as she raised her wand at the Headmaster with all the fire and courage of a Gryffindor leader. Harry stepped aside; he as shocked as anyone.

Minerva was the first to strike. A flash of yellow tore its way through the air as a warning, easily blocked by the man in black. She struck again. And again. And again. Bellatrix had never seen Minerva duel before and she was certainly happy she'd never pissed the woman off to this degree.

Snape had only moments to react between each strike and only to protect himself. He made no offensive movements. On either side of him, the Carrows unsheathed their wands. Bellatrix, afraid her assistance would do more harm than good, stood aside with Filius and the other professors. Never interfere in a masters' duel if not called upon. Stealthily, she inched her way from the professors' dais and through the crowd to the grand doors where Hermione stood in awe of her Head of House.

By the time Bella turned around to watch the duel, the Carrows were on the ground. Minerva must have incapacitated them while Bella's back was turned, but she wondered how she would have had the chance without creating an opening for Snape to press an attack.

His impending doom within sight, Snape escaped the Great Hall in a twirl of robes and a swirling cloud of acrid black smoke through the giant window behind the professors' table, showering down glass and debris as he fled.

"COWARD!" the Head of Gryffindor shouted viciously after the retreating headmaster.

The students cheered! The staff cheered! Bellatrix closed the remaining space between them and quickly took Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze of both affection and reassurance. The room brightened as, with a flourish of her wand, Minerva lit the thousand candles and torches.

"Potter, I presume you have a reason for returning. What is it you need?" Minerva addressed her old student seriously.

"Time, Professor, as much as you can give me."

"Do what you have to – I'll secure the castle." Harry smiled his thanks and made to leave the hall when Minerva called him back. "Potter!" The boy turned. "It's good to see you." The old professor smiled with more affection and ease than Bella had seen from her in a while.

Harry grinned. "It's good to see you, too, Professor!"

Hermione gave Bella's hand one last squeeze before dashing off after her friends through the doors. Bella's heart broke to see her leave, but she understood. They both knew this day would eventually come.

In the chaos, Bellatrix steeled herself and grabbed ahold of Minerva's arm.

"Bellatrix, what –"

"When you said '_I'll _secure the castle', I'll admit, I was hurt, Min." Bella grinned wickedly as Minerva rolled her eyes and both witches set to work.

"Poppy, prepare the infirmary! Filius, gather the professors! Filch, help Molly evacuate the students! We need all hands here! Longbottom, walk with me," McGonagall barked out orders.

Bellatrix strode alongside Minerva and Longbottom as the other professors followed in their wake.

"Let me get this straight, Professor, you actually want us to blow it up? Blow up the bridge? Boom?" the young man clarified uncertainly.

"BOOM!"

Bellatrix cackled, devilishly excited. "Min! War brings out the best in you!"

Minerva ignored the witch and continued speaking to Neville. "Bring along Mr. Finnigan. I seem to recall he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics."

"Yeah, I can bring it down!" the Irishman confirmed with a grin.

"That's the spirit – go now!"

The two Gryffindors hurried off. From behind her, Filius came forward, his voice even higher than usual. "You do understand that even we can't keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely."

"That doesn't mean we can't delay him," Minerva replied, her eyes trained on the distant hills and treetops surrounding the castle. "And his name is Voldemort, Filius, you might as well use it; he's going to try to kill you either way." She turned to face the front entrance, arms raised and wand poised. In no way could Bellatrix have prepared herself for the magical display her colleague would then perform. "_Piertotem Locomotor!" _

There was the sound of stone grinding, breaking, falling. Bella's eyes widened as every single one of the stone statues in the Front Hall came to life and began walking in two long rows of knights out of the castle.

"Hogwarts is threatened! Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!" Professor McGonagall commanded in a powerful voice that shook Bellatrix down to her boots in anticipation for the fight.

Suddenly, there was a small giggle from the formidable professor beside her and Bellatrix looked over to see Minerva grinning ear to ear and giggling like a little school girl. "I've always wanted to use that spell!" she admitted.

"And people say I'm the crazy one…" Bellatrix stepped down the front steps and, along with her fellow professors, aimed her wand true to the sky and began casting enough protection charms to fortify a small country. "_Protego Maximus, Fianto Duri, Repellum Inimicum…" _Spell after spell shot from their wands and came together, forming a protective veil of magic all around the castle. The magic shimmered in the night, giving off a soft, protective glow. Students watched in awe as their professors set the defenses.

_And now we wait. _


	46. Chapter 46

In the distance, balls of light lit up the darkness like shooting stars crossing the night sky. That was where Voldemort was waiting with his Death Eaters – high on the cliff overlooking the school, like vultures sitting on a high limb over their weakened prey. Of course, Bellatrix concluded, that also meant that's where _she _was as well.

It started off as just a few spells shooting across the sky, hardly interrupting the silent, anxious atmosphere, but gradually, the number of spells flying towards them turned night into the brightest day. All too soon, hundreds of spells were flying towards them with the sole purpose of destroying everything the defenders down in the school held dear.

The first spells hit the magical barrier and sizzled out harmlessly. Then more followed. Each connection sounded like what she assumed a gunshot would sound like – loud and dangerous. Each echoing blast drew out an unbearable agony; waiting for the last spell to rip apart their defenses tortured every soul.

A thunderous crack of lightening reverberated through the night and the sky suddenly lit up with a blinding white light, as though the sun had exploded just above their heads. There was the electric crackling and sizzling of magic against magic and a small explosion before the veil was ripped apart and began to crumble away, completely useless. They heard the sound of hundreds of voices cheering and shouting in triumph from far off on the hills. Everyone in the courtyard held their breath. Their greatest defense drifted down uselessly around them like ash.

Dreadful moments of eerie calm ticked by. Then from nowhere, everyone gasped and shrieked the ground beneath them suddenly shook with considerable force. Once it settled, Bellatrix and Minerva locked eyes. "Longbottom and Finnigan must have been successful," Minerva said.

"Let's just hope that we all are as lucky," Bella responded as she prepared herself. Voldemort's army had mobilized – the mass of henchmen resembling ink spilled down the side of the distant hills. Hundreds of black-robed bodies and billows of black smoke were descending upon them. Everyone – students, professors, graduates, and friends – gripped their wands tightly in sweaty palms.

Furious roars erupted from the forest that no human being could ever replicate. The trees whipped around as though a violent wind was blowing them down. "Holy shit, they have giants!" Bellatrix shouted as the first mountainous creatures came into view just beyond Hagrid's hut. For such huge, lumbering beasts, they quickly made their way up to the stone bridge. They smashed their way through the stone soldiers while Death Eaters cast their first spells at the assembly in the courtyard.

The ground erupted in stone shards beside Bellatrix, showering her with shrapnel and waking that sleeping dragon deep inside her. It had been too long since she'd been in a proper fight. She grinned devilishly and let loose a menacing cackle as magic flared up from her wand with deadly accuracy.

The first Death Eater fell at her feet. More explosions rocked the ground and screams echoed through the night.

Bellatrix raged a magnificent storm! Lightning struck from her wand, lighting her targets before they crashed to the ground with rolls of thunder. On the bridge, the stone knights managed to bring one giant to his knees with their granite swords and spears. But other giants still advanced.

"Get inside! Everyone inside, now!" Minerva called to those in the courtyard. "Bellatrix, get inside!"

Bella paid her no heed. She laughed with deranged glee as more and more Death Eaters fell from the sky. In the back of her mind, she knew she'd have to leave – the giants were getting too close and as powerful as her magic was, all it would take would be one swing of their axes to finish her off.

Above them, the towers were under attack. Shards of brick, shingles, and glass fell down into the courtyard, adding to the danger around them. All it would take would be a single falling brick to her head and she would be dead. She found the danger exhilarating!

"BELLATRIX!" Minerva shrieked. From nowhere, the Head of Gryffindor appeared in front of her, just in time to deflect the giant's swing to where it came down mere feet from the two of them. Giants were not the fastest of creatures, but once they had momentum, there was no stopping them. One could only, perhaps, redirecting their aim. If one was lucky.

Minerva turned back to Bella with murder written in her eyes. "I'll be quite upset with you if you let yourself be killed."

Coming out of her blood-craze, Bellatrix swallowed and nodded her thanks.

Witches and wizards on brooms zoomed overhead, staying out of reach of the giants, but combining their efforts to stun each of them enough for the stone soldiers to stab away at them without being turned into smashed pottery.

Death Eaters had already infiltrated the school by the time Bella and Minerva rushed inside. Bodies littered the Grand Staircase and it felt like an eternity ago that Bellatrix led a drunken Hermione up those very same steps.

Archways crumbled, stairs cracked, magical flames licked up the walls. Bellatrix had seen war before – she played a major part in the First Wizarding War – but she had never seen destruction like this.

Back outside, all manner of creatures were attacking. Acromantulas climbed the piles of debris with ease, taking down anyone in their path, friend or foe. Dementors circled overhead, attracted by the stench of battle and enticed by the sweet promises of the Dark Lord.

Spying an abandoned broom just inside the entrance, Bellatrix impulsively snatched it up and flew off into the night sky. She evaded several curses effortlessly and knocked more than a few Death Eaters to the ground. She spun and pirouetted in the air, as graceful as a dancer on her broom. She laughed as her split-second drop caused two minions collided with each other. _I do believe Madam Hooch could learn a few tricks from me, _she though arrogantly.

Just beyond the battle, Dementors gathered in astounding numbers. Tightening her grip on the broom handle, she angled around and shot off towards them. As she neared the hoard of cloaked phantoms, her smile faded and she felt herself grow cold. Her speed slowed and her grip slackened. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for her wand.

_Stop being weak! Kick their asses! Protect everyone down there! Protect Hermione!_

She forced herself to remember why she was doing all this. It was for them, for herself, for everything she loved, for Hemione. There'd be no way her love would live if Voldemort won. Nothing good would survive in this world if Voldemort defeated them.

Taking a deep breath, Bellatrix centered herself and recalled her happiest memory. Immediately, an image of the three Black sisters, all young women, sat clustered around a dying fire, holding hands beneath a thick duvet. Bella knew this memory well. It was the last time all three of them had sat together in peace, when Andy admitted her love for Ted, when Bella declared her decision to fight for the Order against her family, and Narcissa's choice to stay behind, to marry Lucius, to keep the family name and legitimate Black line alive. Despite the youngest Black's decision to not follow in her elder sisters' footsteps, Narcissa encouraged the two to follow their hearts. The image wavered and Bellatrix fought to hold on to it. In her mind, it shifted, transformed, and her eyes began to water. From three young women, the sisters transformed into full-grown women, all sitting together. Andromeda seemed to be the least fixed image, shifting between the sister she knew to another face, one with short, pink hair and a happy baby boy on her lap. As the three women sat together, another figure entered the room, a young witch with unruly brown curls and soft brown eyes, this one also holding a laughing baby.

Bellatrix swallowed as her happy "memory" finally settled. Her heart beat fast in her heavy chest. She hadn't considered such a hopeful image before – hope for a future – instead of a desire to return to the past.

Bleary-eyed, she bared her teeth, an animalistic growl brimming with thick emotion escaping her throat. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _

Wave upon wave of magic flooded the sky. It moved like shockwaves, sending Dementor after Dementor reeling, her ethereal Thestral chasing them into the night and snapping at their cloaks, the beast larger and brighter than ever before.

Bellatrix soared, weaving between the towers and turrets, dodging debris and attacks. Down below, she saw members of both sides fighting and falling. Her eyes locked onto three figures rushing through the fire and brimstone. A boy with a shock of dark hair was followed by another boy with muted red hair and a young woman with a wild mane of brown curls. Harry was in the lead with Ron and her Hermione right behind him.

Spells flew from their wands as individual Death Eaters stood in their way. Bellatrix watched them from afar as they made their way through the courtyard. Her eyes scanned their passage. Her breath suddenly caught in her chest. Lying in wait, just ahead, where they were sure to pass, Bellatrix recognized Greyback and several of his pack in ambush position.

Pointing the head of her broom at the pack, Bella accelerated towards the ground at breakneck speed. They were yards apart, but Greyback was as ruthless as Voldemort when it came to his prey. His pack would chase them, hunt them. There would be no escape unless three teenagers could take out the entire pack.

At the last moment, Bellatrix pulled up, the hem of her robes skimming the ground as she passed between the two groups. She leapt from her broom, her wand at the ready and firing before her feet touched the ground. Behind her, she heard the three teenagers skid to a halt and gasp. Greyback smiled, his long, yellow teeth stained red along with the hand that held his wand. His pack howled. Bellatrix quickly extinguished two unexpecting werewolves, one body sent flying into a stone column where it connected with a sickening crack and the other crushed beneath a levitated remnant of an archway.

"GO! I've got them," she shouted at the trio as more spells flew from her wand. She turned, just for a moment, and her eyes locked onto Hermione's terrified gaze. The young woman did not want to leave – to abandon Bell to the wolves – but the boys were trying persistently to drag her along with them. Bella shouted again, her eyes pleading. "Hermione, run! I've got this!"

Finally, Hermione nodded and took off with her friends. Their gazes clung to the other until she was out of sight.

Though Greyback was no master duelist by any means, he was smart enough to take advantage of her momentary distraction. Bella felt something sting her side. Her hand came away wet with blood. He'd actually hit her with a weak _Sectumsempra!_

"Was that your little pet, Bella?" Greyback grinned as his wolves surrounded her on all sides, closing her into the kill box of real wolves. The Alpha sniffed the air deeply and grinned maliciously again. The sight made Bella want to vomit as she blocked spells from all around her. Greyback chuckled. "She is! I can smell you on each other. Well, maybe I'll let you live, Bella, so you can watch as I ravish her, hm? Like that? What's she like? She good? Bad?" he laughed again. "Yeah, I bet she can be real bad. Maybe I'll turn her and keep her, does that sound nice, little Bella? I could keep her as _my _pet! A bitch for a wolf!"

Bellatrix saw red. She knew what this pack – especially Greyback – did to young girls they captured. Those that weren't eaten alive were raped while they were eaten, destroyed until there was nothing left. Or they were turned into monsters. Not werewolves like Remus, monsters like these. Turned dark and tortured until they believed all humans were evil.

With a start, Bella realised her firsthand knowledge of the metamorphous powers of dark magic. Andy, she'd been tortured, trained to hate Muggle-borns. She suddenly understood where Voldemort had gotten the idea on how to turn her family to his side and tear her life apart.

With a cry, magic ripped through Bella's body. Light surrounded her and blinded the pack.

Like the wind, she moved quickly; she was a dark blur, even to their keen eyes. She knew emotions powered magic, but this kind of magic was pure, unharnessed, raw. She felt as though she didn't even need her wand to channel it. It knew her enemies and struck without mercy. Two wolves crumbled to the ground dead, their torsos crushed and another exploded into ash. One, Greyback's second in command, was severed, first his wand arm, then his legs, and finally his head rolled away through the growing pool of blood at her feet. They dropped like flies until it was only Bellatrix and Greyback standing. Bella had blood soaking into her dress and covering her face. Her left side stung miserably from where she'd been hit. Greyback was similarly disheveled. Soaked in blood and sweat, coated in dust and ash, bleeding profusely from where Bella had just nicked him with a curse. He would've looked dead on his feet, if not for the hate fueling him inside and igniting the fire behind his black eyes.

"I _will _kill you, Bellatrix, I promise you that. And when I do, not even your body will be left for your pet to mourn when I'm finished," he panted as they circled each other, two alphas vying for domination.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Fenrir," Bella spat as she shot daggers. "Your pack is dead; you're alone. I alone did that. What do you think will happen to you?"

With a barking roar, Greyback lunged, his teeth bared like fangs, his hands extended like claws. Bellatrix danced away, her black curls whipping around her as she spun around. During their battle, a large section of the exterior wall had blown away. Bella leapt inside the corridor, surprised to find herself outside Minerva's classroom, in the Lower East corridor. Scambling over the crumbled wall on all fours, Greyback followed her and pounced. With a flick, her wand transformed into a sleek black whip that cut through the air with a sharp whistle.

It wrapped tightly around the monstrous werewolf in mid-leap, tightening over his bound body until it cut through him, making red run in little rivulets to the ground. The beast was completely immobile. He gnashed his teeth, spit flying. She was careful to keep away from the cursed saliva until she magically gagged him and he could not infect her.

From her boot, Bella produced a long, sharp, silver dagger. She knew Greyback knew the knife well. It had been her father's pride and joy while he was amongst Voldemort's elite back in the first war. He'd been a master at extracting information from his victims with this knife. One cut felt like acid burning away the skin. A single stab was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Those who survived his torture often went mad from the pain and were then disposed of anyways as useless sacks of meat.

She grinned at the terrified pup. She knew that when she smiled like this, she looked just like her father, the Master of Pain, or whatever it was the Death Eaters called him before his sudden death. Greyback flinched and his eyes shone with unobstructed fear.

"Do you know what _I'm _going to do to you, Fenrir? I'm going to cut you, I'm going to flay you. I'm going to make you eat every single threat you made to me and my Hermione! I'M GOING TO CUT YOU FOR EVERY GIRL YOU TOUCHED! EVERY CHILD YOU TURNED! EVERY LIFE YOU DESTROYED! Are you ready, Fenrir, for the longest night of your cursed life?"

There was suddenly the sound of the earth cracking apart. Bellatrix looked up. Above her, the stone archway – the entire corridor – was crumbling around them. As massive tons of stone fell from the ceiling, Bellatrix lurched away, her loss of focus releasing the werewolf as she scrambled away and landed outside on the cobbled courtyard. Greyback, stunned, was crushed beneath a mountain. Her gagging spell must have also been released, because as the ceiling caved, she heard him scream, and she heard as those screams were silenced forevermore.

Panting on the ground Bellatrix picked herself up and spat on the pile of rubble that interred one of the vilest monsters the wizarding world had ever faced. "Lucky bastard. You got off easy."


	47. Chapter 47

**A.N. Some dialogue is taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 just to line up the movie/book timeline to this story. Enjoy, this story is nearing its end!**

Hogwarts was a battlefield. Bodies littered the ground and screams and shouts filled the night. Spells shot through the air like muggle fireworks, lighting everything in colourful flashes. Small fires burned here and there and he did what he could to douse them as he tripped over debris. Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune and once a Death Eater, now a Hogwarts defender.

_A secret defender, _he thought bitterly. The problem with keeping his involvement with Harry and Ron while hunting the Horcruxes secret was that now, while he was trying to help them, no one believed he was on their side. True, none of the DA members had tried to lynch him while he was with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Room of Requirement, but not all of them had heard he was working with them – and he was sure not all of them believed it.

So, to avoid being shot down by a member of the DA or – Merlin save him – an Auror, Draco played his part behind the scenes. He didn't like it much, but it gave him the opportunity to accomplish his own task – finding and protecting his mother. No matter the outcome, Narcissa would be seen as the enemy. If Voldemort won, he would inevitably discover that Draco had helped the Golden Trio and his entire family would be punished for his betrayal. If the Order won, she would be tried as a criminal and sentenced to life in Azkaban for aiding Voldemort and his followers.

He knew she was here; Voldemort would not have let her stay behind in the safety of the Manor. He would have wanted as many witnesses to his _victory _as possible. But search as he might, he could not find her among the fighting Death Eaters. He saw Yaxley, the Lestrange brothers, Scabior, Greyback – they were all here! Briefly, Draco caught sight of his aunt Andromeda as she flitted around as a cloud of black smoke. He'd have to watch out for her. The others he might be able to convince that he'd been a prisoner of war these last few months, but Andromeda was another matter entirely. She knew the truth and she would kill him without batting an eye. No love lost for a traitorous nephew.

As he ran through the castle, he passed several portraits, the subjects of which ran around like mad, passing news along through the corridors better than owl post.

Through the windows, he could see the courtyard below and all the Death Eaters, students, professors, and friends fighting for their side. Off in the distance, the thunderous roars of giants rumbled and vibrated the windows and the castle shook with a powerful _Bombarda_.

Entranced by the fight, Draco could not help but stare at everyone down in the courtyard. Professor McGonagall battled Rowle. Even from here, he could see that her lips had formed a thin line – as they did whenever the professor was angry – and he pitied the fool of a Death Eater that chose her as their adversary. A golden tongue of fire shot from the tip of the professor's wand and sparked against Rowle's hastily conjured shield. Rowle, at any opportunity, shot off spells that McGonagall deflected expertly with small flicks of her wrist. One of the deflected spells flew off towards Draco's window and he ducked as it shattered the glass from where he'd been watching. Carefully, he peeked back down into the courtyard. Broken bricks, shards of glass, and other debris flew around the man as McGonagall controlled them and had them trap the Death Eater in a swirling vortex that left him bruised, broken, and shredded. The Death Eater fled cursing and throwing random curses behind his back at the witch.

Draco watched. McGonagall followed the coward, screaming obscenities after him, and disappeared into another section of the castle. Many others – students and adults – were left to their own battles. A flash of muted red hair, slightly dimmed by age, caught Draco's eye. Molly Weasley fought against Avery and the Death Eater was having a difficult time finding an opportunity to switch to the offensive against the Weasley matriarch.

Too preoccupied with the Death Eater before her, Molly did not see the Dementor slinking up behind her, hidden by the various mountains of broken bricks and collapsed walls and archways, creeping up like a shadow. Fear for the motherly woman spread like ice through his chest, though he was far enough away not to feel the Dementors effects.

Positioning himself, Draco cast his most powerful Patronusto the black, floating figure behind Molly. The beautiful swan soared through the sky, down to the courtyard and attacked the creature. Its power sent the Dementor flying backwards and into a wall. Draco had never known if Dementors where darkness made visible or made of real flesh, but the way the demon cracked against the wall and slunk away gave him an answer. He silently cheered when Molly used the distraction to her advantage and, while Avery watched the swan chase off the Dementor, knocked him unconscious with well-placed _Stupefy _to the chest.

More flashes of light and the cacophony of fighting penetrated Draco's senses as he ran through the castle. _Where is she? She isn't fighting… she would be back at Voldemort's base… where is HE? _

Suddenly, the fighters froze and the battle came to a screeching halt. It was like the world stopped turning and time stood still. He heard Voldemort's voice in his head – he wanted to claw at his own ears! He heard Voldemort telling them that in one hour, the battle would recommence; that they should take this time to take care of the dead and aid the wounded. And then he heard the message to Harry, telling the young man to meet him in the Forbidden Forest – to surrender – to spare the lives of everyone he cared for.

_Harry will go and I cannot stop him. _Draco knew his new friend was too kind-hearted and selfless to refuse such an offer. Which would mean Harry would go to the forest, where the Death Eaters would be waiting. _Where Mother will be waiting with them. _

In the lull, the fair-haired young man crept his way around the castle, dodging mourners and volunteers who carried limp and lifeless bodies to the Great Hall. He ran down to the torched Quidditch pitch, a plan forming in his mind. He had to get there before Harry, otherwise, they might move again and it would be too risky to follow them. Perhaps, once he convinced his mother to flee, he would then be able to help Harry… somehow.

Thankfully, when he reached the shed where they kept all the brooms, it was unharmed. He grabbed one of the remaining broomsticks and took off into the sky. He flew high enough over the trees to keep out of sight and flew slowly and stealthily. _Merlin, I wish I had Harry's cloak right now. _He circled the center of the forest; the epicenter of darkness and home to many of the most dangerous of its inhabitants. Flashes of light gave away the position of the Death Eater base, just below him. Carefully, he ducked beneath the canopy of leaves, and touched down some way away from the group, behind thick underbrush.

As silent as leaves ghosting over the ground, he crawled back up a small bluff to watch the Death Eaters from the little rise above them. Thick webs stretched between the trees high above them, and Draco wondered with a creepy feeling on the back of his neck, which forest creatures had lived here before being evicted or exterminated by Voldemort. From the stories he'd heard throughout his years at Hogwarts and what he had learned from Harry and Ron, he had a pretty good idea which creature had lived here.

Voldemort's army was missing quite a few companions from their ranks, he saw. There were significantly fewer Snatchers hanging around and a couple key Death Eaters were absent. Draco shifted to get a better view. His aunt kept close to Voldemort's side. His best lieutenant. Her black eyes were as cold and empty as an abyss – nothing out of the usual. Apparently, not even this much death could spark an emotion in the lifeless husk of a woman.

His eyes roamed over the clearing once more, desperately searching for a splash of white-blond hair. _There! _On the other side of the clearing, half hiding behind a large, web encased tree, he saw both his parents. His father's long hair was limp and unwashed, his face unshaven, and his hands shook with small trembles. Dark circles fell beneath his fearful eyes – eyes that darted around like those of a small animal caught in a trap. Though he kept his back straight and his shoulders thrown back, he was a shell of the man he had once been. Beside him, Narcissa Malfoy stood the prime example of the cool, composed wife. Her blonde hair shone in the little light from the stars and her robes were magnificent and pristine. Her statuesque figure was held high with pride and her chin was tilted with the arrogance and nobility the children of the Black family had genetically inherited.

The only indications that the woman was in any discomfort were the slight bags beneath her cool blue eyes and the slight twitching of her right hand.

The calm anticipation the group exuded suddenly died. Whispers broke out, traveling throughout the crowd like little ripples over a pond when disturbed by a pebble. Harry stepped into the clearing. He looked tired, but as brave and determined as Draco had ever seen him.

His friend stepped forward, ignoring all other Death Eaters; his eyes locked on Voldemort alone. Harry and Voldemort spoke and a few of the Death Eaters laughed.

Hidden above it all, Draco held his breath, his eyes watching the terrible scene with horror. _No, Harry, you came too soon… what can I do? _

He made to move from his hiding place when, in the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered, _witness. Do not interfere. _The voice paralysed him and all he could do was watch, tears stinging his eyes.

"The Boy Who Lived… come to die. _AVADA KADAVRA!" _

A brilliant green flash of light exploded through the forest, blinding everyone within a half-mile. Around Draco, the trees trembled, the ground shook, and the terrified screams of the forest creatures cut through the air.

And then everything was silent. Hardly daring to breathe, Draco lifted his head over the ridge and gazed down into the clearing. Everyone was climbing to their feet from the impact of the blast. On one end, Voldemort lay on his back in the dirt, motionless. On the other, there was Harry, lying just as still and silent as all the corpses Draco passed through the grounds on his way here. A few moments passed, somewhere between a single breath and eternity.

And then Voldemort stirred. His Death Eaters swarmed around him; their little sycophant voices rising in only half-genuine concern for their Lord. He shook off all offered help and stood tall, his shoulders rising and falling with short, gasping pants. His eyes spoke of everything he was thinking. Hope; dread… for once, Lord Voldemort's thoughts were as transparent as if Draco were a master Ligilimens. _Is he dead? Have I finally killed Harry Potter? Have I won?_

Draco stared at the body of his friend. His dead friend. Harry. Dead. Harry's dead. _No, not dead. He can't be. Harry's not dead!_

"You – see if he's alive." A long, pale finger, tipped with a claw-like nail pointed at Narcissa and motioned her over to Harry's body.

Draco watched his mother. She held herself high as she walked over to the young man; a woman made of steel. But he knew the heart of a mother beat beneath the calm, cool exterior. The heart may be a little unused and dysfunctional, but Draco knew; he knew she could love; that she cared for him, she had cared for her husband. She could be saved. If he could do nothing else in this war, he would be sure to do at least that.

Everyone held their breath – the forest held its breath.

She bent over Harry's unmoving body. Draco lost momentary sight of her face – white-blond hair creating a curtain that partly concealed the two of them. When she leaned back, it was as though an invisible weight was lifted from her and she was finally able to draw a free breath. "He is dead." Her voice was clear and completely void of any emotion.

_NO! _Draco bit back a sob. Suddenly torn, he watched his mother rise and walk back to his father. If he waited, he could get her to safety. But then Ron and Hermione would be left on their own to destroy the last Horcrux and Voldemort himself.

A cry of victory ripped itself out of Voldemort's throat and a bolt of pure magical energy shot from his wand straight through the sky, incinerating a hole through the canopy of leaves above him. The Death Eaters yelled and cheered as Voldemort swung Harry's body around as if it were a cheap doll.

Off to the side of the clearing and tied to a thick tree, flanked by two gleeful Death Eaters, Hagrid wailed miserably at the passing of his best friend.

Draco bit his lip and pressed his palms into his stinging eyes. _Stay focused, Draco. Harry chose this; he knew what would happen. And now, there's only one thing to do. Get the last Horcrux – the snake – and then Voldemort pays. _

Steeling himself, Draco gazed back at the people in the clearing. There was no way he could get to his mother now. He backed away slowly, broom in hand. His body felt numb and he moved with jerky, automatic movements. The fly back to the shed, the walk up to the castle – it was all a blur.

He climbed the steps and made his way into the Entrance Hall. Tears made clean tracks through the dirt and soot on his face. By chance, Hermione was the first person he encountered on his way to the Great Hall.

"Hermione, he's… he… Harry –"

"Draco! What're you doing out here like this? They're coming back now – hide!" The brunette grabbed the young man by the collar of his shirt and, despite his protests and stuttered explanations, dragged him from the entrance and through the Great Hall. From the corner of his eye, he saw they passed an amused looking Aunt Bellatrix and many shocked students, professors, and allies. Had the situation not been so dire, Draco would have been humiliated and furious.

Hermione shoved him into the Portrait Chamber and rushed away, leaving him alone with hundreds of empty frames.

From the crack between the door and its frame, Draco watched as everyone rushed from the Great Hall and off into the main courtyard. Only a few mourners remained, along with the dead and dying. Madam Pomfrey passed by a few mats and paused at one. The witch bent over and gently closed Lavender's eyes with shaky hands and then moved on to tend to the injured.

From where he stood, Draco could hear Voldemort's amplified voice calling Harry a coward. And then he heard a woman's – Ginny's – cry of pain and denial, and soon after, other screams joined hers.

_Now they know… _Draco felt his throat constrict and a prickling sensation tickled the corners of his eyes once more.

From his hiding spot, Draco couldn't hear what was happening out in the courtyard well enough. He heard the rise and fall of the Dark Lord's voice, the shrieks of rebellion, the cries of distress. Time passed; each second taking an eternity and yet still passing far too quickly.

Pocketing his wand, the young man rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, sniffed, and wiped at his tears. As much as he was loath to admit it, Potter had been right – muggle clothing was much easier to wear while on the run.

Suddenly, a cacophony of sound erupted from the courtyard and a roar of rage reverberated throughout the castle. _What's happening? What's going on? _

There was the sound of hundreds of feet on the stone floor and the unique sound of magic flying through the air. There were shouts – pain, victory, rage, fear – and Draco heard the battle cry ringing in his ears.

"POTTER LIVES! FIGHT FOR HOGWARTS!"

_Potter lives? HARRY! _

_I have to fight… I have to be out there… but if I leave, I'll be a prime mark… then Mother… WHAT DO I DO?_

The Great Hall was soon filled with witches and wizards, young and old, fighting for their side. Behind the thick, wooden door, Draco felt trapped. This was a feeling that had never agreed with him. Frustrated and on the verge of throwing the door wide and exposing himself, Draco fisted his blond hair in his hands furiously. _If only I had Polyjuice… anything to change my appearance! _

Feeling defeated, his hands fell from his hair and hung limply by his sides.

_WAIT! HAIR! _Memories of his makeover at the Weasleys' flooded his memory. _If I only had a Comb-a-Chameleon! _

"_We got the idea for Comb-a-Chameleon from McGonagall, actually…"_

"…_we were practicing that _Crinus Muto_ that changes the colour of your hair…"_

_THAT'S IT! _

Recalling everything he could from those Transfiguration lessons, Draco closed his eyes and wove his wand through his overgrown hair.

"_Crinus Muto_," he muttered. _Brown, brown, brown… red… anything but Malfoy blond!_

Heat skittered over his scalp, like hot needles pricking his skin. It was uncomfortable but bearable. When the feeling subsided, Draco opened his eyes and sought some sort of mirror. A trophy case glistened further inside the room and he frowned at his reflection.

_Bright red. Well, better a blood-traitor Weasley than a deserter Malfoy. _

Wand in hand and heart in his throat, Draco blasted the door off its hinges and plunged himself into the fray.


	48. Chapter 48

**A.N. Some dialogue is taken from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2_ just to line up the movie/book timeline to this story. **

"Not my daughter, you BITCH!" Molly advanced on the crazed Death Eater, hatred burning in the mother's gaze while an emotionless smile crossed over Andromeda's red lips.

The fight engaged. Spells flew through the space between the two witches and Hermione flinched at the vibration of the explosion when spells collided.

"NO!" the shout echoed through the battle that raged throughout the Great Hall. Miraculously, the two women stopped and stared. Bellatrix strode forward between Molly and her sister. Those eyes, those expressive dark eyes Hermione fell in the deepest love with, they were hard and yet soft and full to brim with such emotion that had built up from years of pain caused by this sister. "This one's mine."

With a solemn nod, Molly backed away. Turning to her younger sister, Bellatrix stared unwaveringly at the woman. "Sister."

"Hello, Bella, dearest! I suppose our meeting was inevitable… I must say, you've aged remarkably well. Has it truly been twenty-five years? How is my baby? I hear I'm a grandmother! Is that not interesting; I wonder what the little puppy looks like." She smiled. It was horrible. Hermione watched Bella as the woman spoke. She saw the tension build in her jaw, the straightening of her back. _Don't do it, Bella, don't lose control. She's baiting you, she wants you to lash… _

Before her eyes, Bellatrix took a deep breath and the words rolled off her shoulders, leaving her unharmed. "He's beautiful. A shame you'll never see him."

Andromeda's mask faltered, but it did not last long before her frigid grin was again in place. "Really, dearie? I already found his daddy… poor little mongrel will be growing up without the Alpha."

With eyes of steel, Bellatrix raised her wand. She swallowed. _She's scared… does she not think she can win against Andromeda?_

"Enough of the games, Andy. We're here to end this. Only one of us walks away."

Ice crystallized her words. "You promise?" Her wand rose and with less time than it would take to blink, the first spell flew through space towards Bella.

She deflected it but did not return. She waited. Another spell. Black hair whipped around as she swirled through her dance. Black dress and limbs and curls were a blur as Bellatrix danced to her sister's tune. Watching, Hermione would have guessed they had choreographed it. Every spell had a counter, every position a block, and deflection for every curse. Grace and efficiency, the agility of a panther with the swiftness of a bird and assuredness of a lioness, Bellatrix fought the fight. Around them, more duels ensued and more fell on either side. In the center of the room, Voldemort dueled Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn in unison.

"How are they all, Bella? All those old friends of ours? The Longbottoms? Potters? You knew them all! How will my sweet little Dora be when she finds out her _mother _killed her husband?" she chuckled maliciously. "Some things don't change, I suppose… husbands are worth less than shit!"

Fire burned behind Bella's eyes, her sister's words stoking the flame that was constantly lit inside her.

"Maybe I'll pay her a visit and tell her what her precious father did and why _Remus _had to go. I'm sure she'll thank me! She is her mama's girl after all!"

The sisters fought and Hermione watched. It was entrancing. Bellatrix fought a mirror, a darker, colder Bellatrix – the Bellatrix she could have been if Voldemort's plan had worked. Love for the woman filled her and she starred as the love of her life dueled the demon she had hidden from for over two years since Andromeda's escape; a demon that had plagued her for over two decades.

"Come now, Bella, have you nothing to say to your long-lost sister?" Andromeda taunted the professor and threw a devilish cackle that rang off the stone walls.

On the other side of the room, Narcissa's spell clipped a Death Eater in the side and he fell – the student he had been dueling quickly moving on to another adversary. Since the battle had recommenced, her eyes scanned the fighting figures for a glance of her son. But they searched in vain. She could not spot him anywhere. She hoped beyond all hope that he had escaped. A hideous sound caught reached her ears and she looked up, her attention caught by a sound she hoped to never hear again.

Her ice-blue eyes fell on her sisters, her heartbreak was clear on her face. She ran. She ran towards her sisters, spells thrown left and right as she passed her new enemies and old friends but her eyes remained on her older sisters.

"Bella! Andy! Stop!" she screamed. Bellatrix faltered in her defense and was thrown aside by the power of her sister's spell.

"Oh, Cissy! It's a family reunion!" Andromeda giggled madly as she clapped her hands together over her heart.

"Andy, stop this!" Narcissa pleaded, eyes welling with tears and emotion that had not graced her beautiful face since her mother's death.

"And why would I do that, love? She started it."

"Andy, it's not too late, you can come back; we can be a family!"

On the stone floor of the hall, black eyes flew open and a gasping breath sucked in between ruby lips. Dark eyes found soft brown. Hermione leaned over her, holding her head in her lap, a tear making its way down her cheek.

"For me, pet? Save them for someone who'll need them." She smiled at her witch and sat up. At the sight before her, her heart surged into her throat and her stomach turned to lead.

"Oh dear, sweet, little Cissy… of course, it's too late. Bellatrix could never open her heart to me – not now – and I have no heart to open!"

"But –"

"Cissy, join me here. We can finish Bellatrix… she's the one in the way!"

"No, Andy…" Narcissa's eyes drifted to where Bella was rising from the floor, Hermione still crouched down where she had lay.

"Then you are no sister of mine." Cold, precise, calculated – a spell launched and attacked the blonde witch and knocked her to the ground with a pained scream.

"NO!" Suddenly back on her feet, Bellatrix sent a volley of spells to Andromeda, who struggled to deflect such a rapid succession of attacks. "You do not touch my family – you touch no one I love! No more, Andromeda, we finish this."

"I _am_ family! Black blood connects us, Bellatrix, you cannot deny that! We are two sides of the same coin – the same person on opposite sides."

"You betrayed us – we are nothing to each other!" she screamed at the Death Eater. "You ended this when you killed Ted in cold blood."

"HE BETRAYED ME FIRST!"

"That _wasn't TED! _Have you not figured that out yet? Your Ted was innocent!_" _

"YOU'RE LYING!" Desperation clung to the witch's movements like a ball and chain. No longer a graceful dance, the fight became brutal, animalistic. No rules, no moves. Both women were filled with pure, raw emotion that could not be contained inside a chest and instead, had to fly out the tip of a wand.

"See for yourself." Time stopped. The war around her fell into the background as Hermione watched the exchange between the sisters. She saw the controlled, determined expression on Bella's face and the growing horror on Andromeda's. She could nearly see the memories pass through the air between them as Andy flipped through Bellatrix's thoughts, returning to the night of Ted's murder, of her torture, of everything between and since.

"NOOOOOOOO!" The scream ripped through the woman like her heart had been ripped still beating from her warm and breathing chest. A green curse flew to Bella, who side-stepped and deflected the others that followed. With tears streaming down her face, Andromeda battled furiously.

"You killed Ted, Andy. If that's not enough, look to what you've done since. You've killed countless, tortured so many… Cissy is at your feet! You killed your daughter's husband! You killed the father of your grandson! If there was one thing you could do to redeem yourself from the hell you wrought on the world, it would be to give the best thing you ever had – your daughter – a happy life. You TOOK THAT FROM DORA!"

Andy's lips moved, but they were not speaking any incantation known to any but the truly desperate; the ones that have given up, the ones that had just lost the grip on their last rope and have abandoned all hope and put all their energy into a last prayer of redemption.

"Andy…" Bella's voice was soft, a whisper.

Screaming her pain, Andy's eyes were no longer black they're so filled with tears. They glistened. "KILL ME!" The prayer surrounded them. Tearing her wand away from the duel, she gave the opening.

Many things passed through Bella's mind. _Kill me… _her mother's last words. She looked into her sister's eyes. She knows Andy could never live like this – she has been dead for so long already. A flick of her wand, a whispered incantation and a heart full of mercy, green light reflected in her sister's eyes as they grow dark and the light goes out.

Falling to the ground, Andromeda's lips held the smile only those at peace can wear and a last tear trailed down her cheek.

Taking a shuddering breath, Bellatrix knelt down beside her sister's body. She heard a roaring in her ears that echoed throughout the castle. Voldemort has seen the fall of his last great lieutenant. She felt Hermione's hands on her shoulders. And then she felt a tickling sensation on the back of her neck.

"Hermione, NO!" Wand in hand, she pushed her love back as the Killing Curse that had just left Voldemort's wand hurdles towards them through the Great Hall.

"PROTEGO!" Suddenly, a shield forms from nowhere and the green light of the curse strikes it and sizzles out.

"Potter!"

* * *

Draco saw his mother fall and lie motionless on the unforgiving stone floor.

"MOTHER!" Like lightning, he was off, cursing Death Eaters left and right as he plowed his way through the fight like a freight train. From nowhere, a thick, heavy-set man in black robes stepped in front of the young Malfoy. Draco felt like he ran into a wall. Stumbling back, Draco kept his wand raised high.

_Rodulphus? Rabastein? _

Confusion sparked behind the man's dark eyes before recognition hit and a predatory sneer twisted his gaunt and rugged face. "Little Malfoy; another blood-traitor." Apparently, the disguise was less impressive this time, but the man's moment of hesitation offered Draco the time he needed to regain his focus.

With a roar, Draco flared his wand, empowered by his fury and adrenaline. His _Stupefy _sent the wizard flying backwards through the throng of the battle. The Lestrange landed with a stomach-twisting crunch several yards away and he did not stand.

Back on his path, Draco surged onward, determined to make it to his mother. He watched as his Aunt Bella picked herself up off the ground. He dodged around Slughorn and students, his destination still clear in his sights. _Mother. _

The young man dropped to his knees and pushed a stray strand of blond hair away from his mother's forehead. _She's breathing! _He breathed a small sigh of relief before his gaze was stolen upward by a high-pitched shriek of pain and wrath. A green flash of light filled his vision. When the light cleared, he saw a woman all dressed in black with midnight curls fall lifelessly to the ground. Aunt Andromeda had made her last stand.

But the battle did not stop around them. From the center of the Great Hall, a cry of outrage shook the foundation as Voldemort watched the fall of his greatest Death Eater. His new target in sight, a blast of deadly magic surged towards his aunt and Hermione.

From nowhere, a shield formed between the women and the Killing Curse. And then Harry materialized between them. Joyous shouts were soon stifled as Voldemort and the Boy Who Lived circled each other in the center of the hall.

"There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me now, Riddle. Neither can live while the other survives and one of us is about to leave for good," Harry said calmly as he watched Voldemort laugh.

"One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident; because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"I know it will be me because I have something – a weapon – you could never have!"

"Why, Potter, enlighten me."

"Dumbledore's death, Snape killing him – it was planned! They planned it so Snape could gain your trust and the Elder Wand's power would die with Snape. But, by chance, it was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore before Snape could kill him, therefore making _Draco _master of the wand, not Snape."

"Then I will simply have to kill the young Malfoy – a tiny setback."

"That still won't get you the wand. You see, I had to disarm Draco months ago while we were on the run chasing down the Horcruxes. So, Riddle, I am actually the real master of the Elder Wand."

Voldemort's face contorted into a serpentine mask of rage. In tandem, they raised their wands and simultaneously cast. It was like nothing Draco had ever seen. The power of Voldemort's Killing Curse could not pass Harry's _Expelliamus_, and instead, the two bolts of magic connected, each pushing against the other; where they connected shone so brilliantly, no one could look directly at it.

Beside him, he heard his Aunt Bella whisper, "_Priori Incantatum" _as though she were in a trance as she watched the two wizards duel.

Outside, dawn began to peek up over the horizon and shine through the broken windows with golden light.

Both Harry and Voldemort struggled, Harry to push through the connection; Voldemort to break it and go around Harry's charm.

But a wand obeys its master. The Elder Wand suddenly flew from Voldemort's grip, up into the air and landed in its true master's outstretched palm. The spells rebounded, the _Expelliamus _sizzling out before Harry, but the Killing Curse striking Voldemort full in the chest.

The Dark Lord fell lifelessly to the ground, his black robes splayed around him like a pool of black ink.

No one dared move; no one dared breathe. Several moments passed where every single eye in the Great Hall stared unblinkingly at Lord Voldemort – finally fallen.

Then, like the shattering of glass, the spell was abruptly broken as everyone cried in victory.


	49. Chapter 49

Ron sat amidst the debris and rubble on what had once been the magnificent entry-way stairs to the castle. His seat appeared to be the only space cleared enough for the young wizard to sit and reflect. Between his fingers, he held the heart-shaped locket identical to his own. When she'd died, mauled to death by that bastard wolf, Greyback, Lavender had been wearing this locket. Ron's locket hung heavy around his neck. His eyes stung and he wished tears would come to relieve some of the pain that was settled so deeply in his body. But he had already shed all the tears his body could produce. _Fred, Lavender, Remus, Colin… and fifty others…_

Behind him in the Entrance Hall, the remedial first-wave of clean-up was underway. An army of brooms and mops enchanted by Flitwick were at Filch's command, as were many young witches, wizards, and volunteers from the village. The surly old caretaker led the clean-up hoards with a softer voice than was habitual as he gently stroked an injured Mrs. Norris cradled in his arms. His kinder tone was almost worse than his usual barking commands and threats. It meant that a tragedy truly had struck Hogwarts.

This clean-up was merely the first step towards the school's recovery. Tomorrow would be the mass funeral for everyone who'd been lost during the Battle of Hogwarts. Lavender's parents would be arriving, along with many other parents of fallen students to participate in this giant final farewell. In the many days after, private funerals would be held for the dead by their own families in all parts of the UK.

Fred's funeral would be held back at the Burrow the day after next. It was almost fortunate Ron could shed no more tears; he was now, in his numb state, mostly able to help his family through. Poor Percy was nearly inconsolable the first day, wracked with guilt. George held no grudges to their formerly estranged brother and had even ceased with name-calling his older brother for the time being. If nothing else, George and Percy would become closer because of this. And Charlie was on his way back home; they would make it through this.

Ron's thoughts flitted through his mind as he sat on the stone steps alone, fingering the locket. A thought then crossed his mind, one that made the smallest of smiles appear on his pale face. When Harry had confessed his willingness to give up the power of the Elder Wand, Hermione made a little confession of her own.

Malfoy had nearly fainted and the sheer shock of the news had actually made Ron smile and let out a mad stream of cackling laughter. It was the first time he'd smiled and laughed so effortlessly in months.

Harry, for his part, had immediately gone into Big Brother Mode and was narrowly halted in his sudden desire to confront Black by Hermione's assurance that she was happy and in love with the professor, and that Bellatrix's feelings were completely mutual.

"Not that I don't support your happiness, 'Mione, but where do you see this going?" Harry asked their friend whom they had not seen in nine months.

"We… don't know exactly. We didn't expect to live through this war. I guess we will finally have to have that conversation." Hermione chuckled to hide how nervous that conversation made her. She looked hesitantly to the young man on her left. "Draco, are you okay with this?"

Draco took a deep breath through his nose and slowly expelled it through his mouth. "It… makes sense. A lot of sense. I'm not… against it. But don't expect me to call you Aunt Hermione!" Hermione let out a laugh of relief and Draco let out a slightly strained chuckle and the two shared an embrace.

"In any case," the young man continued, "if my Aunt Bella does love you as you say, even her favourite nephew's feelings wouldn't stand in her way. She'll probably flaunt it until we all get used to it, so get ready for lots of public displays of affection around my family."

Hermione froze. She had not thought about Bellatrix's extended family – her worries had ended at Draco. The young witch suddenly blushed and her eyes went wide in fear at the thought. And then the four of them burst into laughs.

* * *

"So, it is Miss Granger, then? You're positive she's the young woman who has finally stolen your heart?" Narcissa interrogated her sister. They were both seated in McGonagall's study – the recently promoted Headmistress had yet to move into the Headmaster's study – while Aurors guarded every exit, both magically and physically. The Malfoys being known collaborators with the Dark Lord and Death Eaters, Narcissa was to remain under lock and key until her trial. Bellatrix felt optimistic, however, as to the outcome of the trial. She knew the new Minister for Magic would have to put on an elaborate show of incarcerating known Death Eaters and their conspirators, but with Harry to testify on her behalf and the evidence of her and Draco's involvement in Voldemort's defeat, she was sure her punishment would be no more than a limited house arrest.

Though they had previously had this heart-to-heart some time ago, with the madness of the past year slowly ebbing away and becoming a memory, Lady Malfoy felt it was now her solemn duty to get to the bottom of her sister's infatuation with the young witch. Perhaps with the possibility of a future ahead, Bella will turn-tail and run for the hills. Perhaps Miss Granger will decide she is better off with someone her own age. Perhaps they will both realize that stress and death looming over-head creates feelings where there are none.

"Yes, she's the one," Bella responded without a hint of shame or hesitation.

Narcissa sat back in her chair and regarded her sister silently for a moment, as one would observe the chemical reaction of a potion after adding a new ingredient. Cissy was always brilliant at brewing. "I suppose that is a fortunate choice. Having the Golden Girl associated with the Black name would do much for our rehabilitation," she said matter-of-factly with a tone of nonchalance. Her eyes, however, never strayed from her sister.

"Don't even think of dragging her into this family mess, Cissy!" Bella gripped the arms of the chair and used the leverage to push herself towards Cissy menacingly. "She's mine! Not some way for you to save poor Lucy's sorry arse from Azkaban."

The corner of Narcissa's mouth turned up. "No, Bella, I meant for you! Where my husband is concerned, he can rot in prison for the rest of his life as punishment for what he and our sister did to Draco. No, Bellatrix, I meant this was fortunate for _you_. You've been hiding in this castle ever since Andy's incident because everyone was afraid of you. Now, you can go outside."

Bella thought silently as she sat with her sister and Narcissa cataloged her every expression. Fury in response to using Hermione for personal gain; thoughtfulness in response to a new life and reputation in Hermione's company.

"Now that the war is over, where do you think this relationship will go?"

"I don't really know… neither of us really expected to make it through this one. For my part… I want it to last." Bella's voice dropped into the softest of whispers, the kind of whisper a child uses when making a secret wish. It was so low, Narcissa nearly missed her last few words. Almost, but she caught them. She bit the inside of her cheek. Hopefulness in response to a future with Hermione. "Do you see marriage as an option?"

"Not right away," Bella answered reflexively, as though the thought had been recently on her mind. "Hermione will want to finish her N. E. W. Ts first, then find her parents, and then work on her Ministry career before settling down with a wife and family."

"And you're willing to wait all those years?" Narcissa asked dubiously, knowing full well how her sister did with waiting for something she wanted.

"I'll wait a century if it means I get to keep her."

Cissy finally allowed herself to smile. It would have been patronizing if it had not been bursting with love and pride in her sister. "You sound very sure of this relationship you've developed, Bella."

As a response, Bellatrix reached into her robed and pulled out a small black velvet box. After a moment of playing with it between her fingers, she handed it to her little sister.

Curiously and with her heart hammering in anticipation, Narcissa took the parcel and lifted the lid. Inside, safely nestled in a cushion of charcoal sued, was a stunning engagement ring. An emerald of respectable size winked at her in the light. It was not extravagant like her own but it also not stingy. Tiny rubies rested on either side of the green gem and everything was fastened to a delicate silver band. It was obviously Goblin-made, exquisite craftsmanship and quite honestly, absolutely perfectly suited for the special and modest Miss Granger. "Truly?"

"Absolutely. There's no one else."


	50. Epilogue

**A.N. Well readers, this is the final chapter. It's a little long – I don't know about you guys, but I just hate loose ends so I did my best to tie them all up. It's been one helluva ride getting here and I sincerely hope you've all enjoyed this story. I greatly appreciate all your support and reviews and love you all dearly! Happy future reading!**

**XO – wandering-writer38**

Bellatrix sat at her desk correcting a particularly disappointing pile of fourth-year essays on the Unforgivable Curses. It seemed the years of peace had made her students lazy. With a disappointed purse of her lips, she dropped yet another _P _level scroll on the pile and dragged another in front of her. It was going to be a long night. Through her window, she could see twilight approaching. Though the days were steadily getting longer, she would still be arriving home in the dark. But that would be fine. She knew what she would be coming home to. Golden light reflected off the snow and lit up her office in a way that warmed her deep in her soul.

With a content sigh and a smile picking at the corners of her lips, she turned her attention back to the essays. Her face instantly dropped into a scowl. _Why are they all so stupid? _

"Knock, knock."

Bella looked up and felt her irritation slip beneath the surface. "Neville, come in. How are you?" she asked as she pushed the unmarked essays further from her sight.

"Well…" he chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. She noticed it was tinted with slightly more grey than last year. "Things have been a little hectic, Bella, I'm not going to lie." He dug into his robes and pulled out a photograph. "I promised Hermione I would get one to her as soon as I could," he said, passing the photo to her. She held it by the sides and watched as four children and a baby smiled brightly at her and laughed merrily. In his arms, the eldest boy held a small baby, barely three months old. Neville and Hannah had this one just before New Year's if Bella remembered correctly.

"Wonderful! She did ask me to mention this. I forgot." Neville laughed at her candid response. "Is the little one causing you much trouble?" she asked and motioned for the Herbology professor to take a seat opposite her. He gratefully accepted the plush chair and sunk into it.

"It's not just Felicity – she's actually quite a happy baby. It's… it's just all of them! Tommy is here, but there are still four of them back home. Greg and Jeff seem to never run out of energy and I think Sarah could rival Fred and George in their golden days with the skill of her pranks. We had to hire another barkeep to help Hannah and Teddy over the weekends."

"You should bring them by sometime. I'm sure Lyra and Sabastian would love a day with them," Bella suggested. Yes, her two youngest children would love to see the Longbottom children, whom they considered to be their other cousins. Of course, Bella would just _happen _to have a staff meeting that day but she was positive Hermione would simply _love _to have a houseful of children. The brunette had been getting the baby fever again, and if a house full to bursting with children for a day couldn't dissuade her, Bellatrix did not know what else to do.

"Really?" The look on the man's face was so hopeful, Bella felt a sudden stab of guilt for using his children to keep her wife from begging for a fourth. "Hannah and I could really use a day… do you think Hermione would mind?"

"Not at all." Bella smiled widely. "She'll love the idea. I'll speak to her about it, and we'll come up with a date."

Neville grinned broadly and leaned back more comfortably in his chair. "Thanks, Bella, you two are the best!"

Beside her, the small desk clock began to chime five o'clock.

With a heavy sigh, Neville stood. "Well, I'd better get home. I promised the kids we could play Ogre Wars tonight – don't tell Hermione! She'll insist on correcting them with the proper historical events…" they shared a long laugh. That was something her wife would do, Bella had to admit.

"Give our love to Hannah and the little ogres for me."

"I will. Oh! Before I go, I have to tell you, Sarah did the funniest thing to a customer the other day."

Bellatrix listened while the proud father recounted his daughter's story and could not help but smile. It was heartwarming to see such a strong war hero and rebel gush over his young children. It made her grateful that her own children didn't quite understand what it was like to be at war. Her own children had often played Ogre Wars when they were younger, but they didn't _know. _Not like the adults knew. Bella would never stop thanking the stars for that fateful May 2nd, the day it all ended.

Walking home in the twilight gloom, Bella's boots sloshed through the melting snow. A few people nodded their heads in acknowledgment as she passed and she did likewise. Over the years, there had been a steady flow of people moving to and out of Hogsmeade, but a few always stayed; especially the ones who had fought to keep their homes twenty years ago. Bellatrix sent a wave to Rosemerta; the madam returned it affectionately. Nearing eighty now, the older woman spent most of her days gossiping with her customers and smoking on the doorstep rather than actually keeping up the bar. That responsibility had passed down to the woman's nephew and his wife.

Above her, the stars began to shine, but they were not strong enough to light her way up the drive to her cottage. Thankfully, Bella had walked this same path every day for the past fifteen years and knew every pothole and lifted tree root in her path.

The cottage stood a ways back from the main road, almost hidden behind the large trees that bordered the forbidden forest; it was the same cottage in which she raised Dora. It had survived the war well.

The path leading to the front door lay hidden beneath a blanket of early spring snow. As she approached home, the path cleared itself as though invisible elves were shoveling inches ahead of Bella's boots. Trees surrounded the cabin on three sides, effectively silencing the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade until all that could be heard were the sounds of the soft wind blowing through the evergreens and the inhabitants of the forest.

Bella reminisced as she strolled up the walkway. Twenty years. Twenty years of peace in the wizarding community. A lot had happened in that time. Once the school had been repaired and reopened to its magical students, Hermione returned for one month to quickly finish her N. E. W. T.s and begin her internship in the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They all told her that her test results were unnecessary, but the young witch stared appalled at anyone who even remotely suggested she leave her education unfinished.

Over the years, the witch had climbed through the ranks until, just a few months ago, she made Department Head.

Bellatrix had stayed at Hogwarts as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Little by little, their relationship had come to the knowledge of more and more people. Hermione's friends, parents, the Weasleys… soon most everyone knew of that they were officially and seriously courting. Most everyone who knew them supported the union of two such powerful witches in happiness, but others, like that horrible Skeeter bitch, tried to turn their love into a scandal. Yes, they had started dating while Hermione was still a student, but that was beside the point, wasn't it? It wasn't _their _business anyway. However, for the sake of Hermione's Ministry reputation, they had altered the story of how they fell in love and when they got together, claiming that it was during the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts that feelings began to grow. Only a select few knew the truth.

Bella kicked the accumulated snow off her boots before removing a glove and using her bare hand to unlock and open the door. The handle, recognising her identity through magical identification, instantly swung inward, allowing her entry to the warm space within.

Familiar sounds reached her ears as heat permeated through her cloak. She felt the exhaustion from the day melt away like an ice sickle melting in the sun. She inhaled the smell of home; the scented candles she enjoyed burning, the dirt from the potted plants Hermione insisted she could keep alive, the parchment from their many, _many _books…

Just as she was beginning to let go of the lingering stress of the day, a sudden, high shriek shattered her peaceful thoughts.

"Mother!" came the shout, and suddenly, a small body hurdled itself against her body.

"What on – yes, hello, Sab," Bella chuckled as she hugged her son and lifted him into her arms.

"Mother, Sipsey made me take TWO baths today! It's unfair!" He stared up at his mother as she put him down in the foyer.

"Well, did you need them?" she asked and hung her cloak on a hook by the door. Looking down at her son, she was once again struck by the similarity between them. Sabastian had her thick, dark hair; her black-brown eyes, and a very severe expression for a boy of seven.

"NO! I think she enjoys torturing me," he replied with a glare towards the kitchen, where, she assumed, Sipsey was cooking dinner for all of them.

"Young Master Sabastian should not lie to his mother!" The elf suddenly appeared out of thin air in the room between mother and son, fixing the boy with a frown and wagging her finger sternly. "Master Sabastian knows he was dirty when I picked him up from school and still went outside to play Ogre Wars in the garden after his first bath. Sipsey loves Mistress Bella and Miss Hermione's children like they were her own – she would not torture them! But Sipsey _will _make them take baths when they are filthy!"

"Sabastian Castor, you're lucky your mum isn't here now, or she'd send you straight to bed without dinner!" Bellatrix fixed him with her most deadly Professor Black glare. "Lying is not tolerated in this house."

"Yes, Mother." The child lowered his eyes shamefully for a moment, and then looked back at her with those large, dark orbs that usually shone with mischief, but now held feigned innocence. "I'm sorry."

_Bloody hell, this boy is too much like me. _Bella tried to keep her features schooled, but she was definitely _not _a good disciplinarian when it came to her children. "Apologise to Sipsey and then get going, mister!" Bella shoed whim away and dropped the uncorrected pile of scrolls on a side table, kicked off her boots and sunk into her favorite armchair. She and Hermione had done quite well for themselves in making this cottage a nice little home.

From the kitchen, she could hear Sipsey making dinner. Although the elf was officially free, she still insisted on caring for those she considered her family. Bella had consented but had an elf-sized cottage constructed in their backyard for Sipsey to call her own.

Feeling sentimental – a feeling she often had now that she was truly happy and settled down – Bellatrix roamed around the house remembering. Upstairs, she could hear music playing, but not the wizarding music she often played when she wanted to dance with Hermione. This was some obnoxious muggle rubbish Hermione's father had introduced their middle daughter, Lyra, to.

The say the least, Lyra was the oddest of her three beautiful children. Where Aquilla, their eldest daughter in her second year at Hogwarts, was very much Hermione's daughter and Sabastian was a smaller version of Bella, Lyra was… Lyra. She had a heart of gold the size of the largest kingdom and such an easy-going attitude towards life that it reminded Bellatrix of that Luna Lovegood girl, one of Hermione's oldest friends. She loved music and singing, constantly humming to herself and making up her own lyrics and melodies. She had a magical green thumb and often helped both her mothers tend to their vegetable garden behind the cottage. Her brilliant eyes and soft, light brown curls could melt the hardest heart, her smile held the light of the sun, and her laugh was so melodious, the sound of it washed all of Bella's worries away, because how could someone be upset when this wonderful child was so happy?

Aquilla was absolutely brilliant and well on her way to being the next Minister for Magic; she was the brightest witch at that school, despite her mere twelve years. Her studious nature and quick wit were beyond impressive – the stuff of Ravenclaw, naturally – and often, adults felt at a disadvantage when speaking with her eldest daughter. Sabastian was just as quick, putting the pieces of the puzzle together more quickly than any of his age. Prone to manipulation, her son always got his way (unless Hermione was around). She knew he would be the next trouble maker at large in the halls of Hogwarts once he attended, with the charming smile of an angel and a playful, impish glint in his eyes.

Lyra, however, did not have the studious appetite of her sister, nor the ambitious cunning of her brother. She was utterly unique and lovely, completely happy to be herself and unconcerned with the thoughts and judgments of others. More than anything, Bella prayed that that sweet little fairy would never change, never lose her kind heart and her self-confidence.

"Bella!" Pulled from her reverie, Bellatrix smiled widely as her wife pushed the front door open and stumble inside, cheeks and nose bright pink from the March chill.

"Hello, love," Bella greeted sweetly, still feeling the mushy feelings from her reflective thoughts. She helped Hermione off with her coat and immediately captured her lips with her own. It was intoxicating, Hermione's cold lips gradually warming with Bella's heat. She deepened the kiss until her wife moaned into her mouth, cold hands gripping the collar of Bella's robes and sending occasional shivers through her every time their skin connected. They parted reluctantly for air, Hermione swaying slightly in Bella's arms.

"Well… that was quite the welcome home," Hermione chuckled and wrapped Bella in an embrace.

"Only the best welcome for my perfect wife," Bella teased as she nuzzled Hermione's jawbone and nipped her skin.

The brunette let out a husky chuckle and extracted herself from Bella's distracting touches. "What's gotten into you? Did some mischievous student slip you a lust potion or something – the children aren't even in bed!"

"Is it really so strange for me to want to devour my delicious wife at every opportunity?" Bella asked with mock indignance and a saucy grin she knew excited her wife.

"Not… no, but… Bella stop looking at me like that!" Hermione swatted her on her way to the kitchen.

"Why? Am I distracting you? Am I arousing you? Do want to fu – "

"MUMS!"

Bella chocked on her last syllable as Lyra bounded down the last few steps and threw her arms around her mothers.

"Hello, my darling, did you have a good day at school? There were no problems with Sipsey picking you and Sab up? I'm sorry I couldn't be there, darling."

"Mum, relax! We were fine," Lyra insisted with a laugh.

"Yeah, _Mum, _they were fine!" Bella teased and Lyra giggled at her mother's glare towards Bella.

"Miss Hermione, Miss Lyra was perfect, and Mister Sabastian was… present." The three turned towards Sipsey's voice drifting towards them from the kitchen. The little elf emerged, an apron dragging the ground and a wooden spoon in hand.

"Uhhhhh, present? I should hope so," Hermione said disconcertedly.

"It was fine, Mum! Lyra's lying, I didn't do anything wrong!" Sabastian's high voice pierced their ears as his small body rushed down the stairs to the rest of his family.

"Lyra hasn't said anything to the contrary, Sabastian Castor, which leads me to believe that you _did _do something wrong." Hermione's eyes narrowed on her son and her fists landed on her hips. Bella and Lyra exchanged a glance and quickly scampered away into the kitchen while mother scolded son.

"Lyra, could you set the table, please? It looks like dinner is almost ready." Bella stuck her finger into the sauce and narrowly avoided being swatted with Sipsey's spoon.

"Mistress Bella knows better!" the elf scolded.

Bella sauntered away, playfully rolling her eyes. "I can't help it, Sipsey, you know I cannot resist your gravy!" she joked.

"Mhmm," was all Sipsey replied as she pulled the chicken out of the oven.

Bella chuckled to herself as she rifled through the mail they placed on the counter. Despite seeing them nearly every day at the Ministry, Hermione corresponded frequently with Harry and Draco through the post. Although this time, it seemed it was Ginny, Dora, and Draco responding to an invite to Sabastian's eight birthday party.

Dora's message was short and sweet, informing them that she and Teddy were both well and they would both be attending the party.

The night of Remus's death – the Battle of Hogwarts – Dora had arrived at the school mere hours after their victory. After having paced back and forth all night and half the morning, she said she couldn't take it any longer. She had summoned Sipsey – who always obeyed the child she helped to raise – and left her and Teddy home while she flooed to the school. When she discovered her husband's corpse beside Fred's… Bella couldn't have imagined a more pitiful sight and she avoided remembering the scene. And it had only been worse when, for the first time, Dora was officially introduced to her mother. Dora felt only regret for the mother she had never known, but all the same, when they buried Andromeda in the Black Crypt, Dora attended the funeral with her son and placed a picture of her, Remus, and Teddy – the only picture they'd had time to take in the short time between their son's birth and the father's death – inside the sarcophagus with her.

In the last twenty years since Remus's death, Dora had not remarried. Instead, she raised her son a single mom, "just like Aunt Bella", she says. There was a time, twenty years ago, when Dora and Charlie Weasley rekindled their old friendship after all their heartache and loss, that many of them believed the two would end up together. But alas, they simply remained close friends, with Charlie acting as a second father figure to Teddy, along with Harry. Teddy was now an adult – nearing twenty – and working full-time at the Leaky Cauldron with Hannah Longbottom while he "figures out the next move". Bella wondered how differently Teddy might have been if he'd known his father.

Eyes beginning to mist, Bella shook herself and moved on to the next letter.

Bella sighed as she read through Draco's neat message. It had been less than a year since the loss of his wife, Astoria. He had been completely devoted to her, and to their son, Scorpius, and now, Draco seemed to be lost without his wife's soft voice of reassurance. In his letter, Draco also informed her that his mother would also like to attend her nephew's party. Not long after his wife's death, Narcissa had moved in with her son and grandson, using the excuse that she was offering "motherly care and support". Bellatrix knew, however, that the woman simply didn't want to be alone in her large manor anymore, what with Lucius's passing five years prior. But Narcissa was nothing if not a devoted mother and grandmother. Her presence actually did seem to put Draco's mind at ease, a bit.

So much death, so much sadness… her family seemed lousy with it. She would never admit it to Hermione, but Bella often wondered if the Blacks were cursed. She never mentioned this fear to her wife, however, because she knew exactly what her wife would say – "The Black legacy is a testament unto itself. Once a 'pure race' on the verge of extinction, now budding with new life and future generations. The Black family has endured so much in order to become the most resilient of families." And then Bella suspected that she would then quote someone saying something about the trees who endure the harshest winters being able to withstand the tests of time… her wife had grown into quite the cheesy romantic.

Bellatrix rifled through the rest of the post, her eyes landing on a postcard from New York. Ron, the bachelor, had been on a promotional tour selling Weasley joke products to other magical joke shops all through Europe and North America since Christmas. It seemed, though, that their old friend would not be a bachelor for much longer. While in Portugal, he'd met a girl, Sophia, and he was completely besotted with her. On a whim, she decided to accompany him on his voyage through North America – and they'd only known each other for seven days! Now they were in New York together and, from what Ron wrote to them, he planned on introducing her to everyone upon their return to the UK.

"What's got you smiling?" Hermione inquired as she strode into the kitchen, her serious talk with Sabastian over – for now.

"Ron's got a new girl."

"Another?" Hermione groaned. Typically, Ron's romances never lasted long.

"Yes, but this one seems different," Bella assured her. "He wants everyone to meet her when they arrive back from his tour."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised. And glad. Since Lavender, Ron had had a string of meaningless relationships, none of which lasted longer than a few weeks. She dearly hoped this would be the one for him. "Is there any other news from the post?"

"Draco says the three of them will be attending the party, as well as Dora and Teddy. Ginny says the same about the four of them if Harry can take the time off work, that is," Bellatrix relayed the information.

"Poor Harry," her wife moaned. "He's been working himself mad lately what with the new promotion."

"Has there been a surge in crime?"

"No, but a few of the elite Pure-bloods are vying for another Triwizard Tournament. They say twenty years of peace warrants a celebration. Harry's been fighting it – I think worrying about James and Albus… and… about what happened last time..."

"I for one think it would be fun! A bit of tradition brought back to life. It could be a symbol of truly moving passed our past."

Leaning against the counter, Hermione folded her arms over her chest, eyes downcast.

"Do you not agree?" Bella inquired, eyeing her wife curiously.

"I… don't know. I can see your point, but I also see his… I keep picturing Aquilla or Sabastian… Bella, those games were cruel!"

"They're meant to be challenging! Only the best of the best win the honor – "

"The best win while the rest die? How can you condone this?"

"I do not condone death; I believe in healthy competition!"

"The Tournament is too dangerous!"

"Then change the rules! Have more Aurors standing by in case something goes wrong, maybe don't use dragons…"

"Still – "

"Hermione." Bella took her wife's arms and turned her to face her. "He's not coming back." Dark eyes looked deep into Hermione's light brown eyes. "He's gone for good." She placed a gentle kiss to her wife's forehead and wrapped her arms around her shoulders comfortingly.

"After twenty years… some things still trigger the fear…" Hermione muttered, dropping her head to Bella's shoulder.

"I know."

* * *

Bellatrix moaned with pleasure, the sound deep and raw like a lioness's roar. The feel of Hermione around her was just like the first time. In front of her, Hermione whimpered in delight as Bella pushed into her deeper, deeper, again, again… thrust, thrust…

"OH GOD, BELLA!" her wife screamed as her velvety core began to tighten around Bellatrix. Her hands were white-knuckled around their iron headboard. The silken scarfs tying her wrists to the framework were almost unnecessary – the brunette held on for dear life as her wife rode her from behind, pushing her magic phallus _still deeper. _

Sweat ran in beads down their bodies, shining like diamonds in the firelight from the burning hearth across the room. A small pool had gathered in the small of Hermione's back and Bella could feel her damp curls clinging to her humid skin. Reaching up, Bella laid herself over her wife's back, covering her, still thrusting. One hand latched itself to a perfectly pert nipple dangling from Hermione's torso. Her breasts had grown from the three children she had given birth to and Bellatrix had absolutely no problem with that. She toyed with the malleable mass until the witch cried out, "Bella, Bella, I'm so close, don't stop, _MERLIN DO NOT STOP!" _

Encouraged by her wife's incoming climax, Bellatrix steadied herself, knowing that the second Hermione came, she would follow in convulsions. Her arm wrapped itself around Hermione's waist and yanked her closer, hard enough to cause her wife's grip to slip on the headboard – hence the restraints.

"Then come for me, baby," Bella crooned to her beloved in her husky voice of seduction. She knew that voice itself was enough to have her wife squirming in her seat and now it was the straw on the camel's back.

Hermione fell over the edge screaming her wife's name. Bella's orgasm, as she predicted, shook her moments after. It was fascinating, erotic, and completely intoxicating, _feeling _Hermione's vagina tighten and pulsate around her transfigured sex as she came. The sensations were still strange to Bella, although this was hardly the first time she'd transfigured herself into a she-man for sex with Hermione.

The transfiguration process was complex but unpainful and very pleasurable for both of them. Bella used specified transfiguration techniques in order to transform her sexual organs into those of a man – her clitoris became elongated and phallic-shaped and her eggs transformed into sperm able of fertilising Hermione's eggs – if Hermione took the special (and rather expensive) fertility potion that prevented Bella's eggs from re-transfiguring from sperm back into eggs once inside her. Without the potion, Hermione just didn't get pregnant.

Having both come down from their orgasmic high, Bella untied the scarves around Hermione's wrists and laid down beside her spent wife. Half-consciously, Hermione ran her fingers through Bella's mussed curls, as she had done so often before after a night of love-making.

"Hmph."

"Oh, stop grumbling!" Hermione scolded playfully. She stroked the lengthening streak of grey running through Bella's midnight black curls. "I love your grey."

"I don't… it was easier to ignore the age difference between us when I looked thirty with pure black hair, a tight body…"

Hermione smiled sweetly and rolled over to straddle her wife's hips. "We've never bothered about the age difference before, why start now? Plus, I think it's sexy." She placed a soft kiss on Bella's forehead.

Bella rolled her eyes.

"It's true! After twenty years, I still find you," she nibbled Bella's earlobe, "irresistible."

"Will you still love me when my wrinkles are deep enough to hide Galleons in?"

"I will love you when you're deaf, blind, and when your boobs hang down around your hips," Hermione teased along.

"Oh please, Avada me before that happens!" Bella cried, flipping Hermione beneath her and pinning her to the mattress. Gazing down at her wife, Bella wondered again how this beautiful creature could choose to spend her life with an aging, cantankerous alcoholic such as herself. But for as often as she wondered, she thanked her lucky stars even more that it had happened. Despite the sadness she believed her family to be cursed with, so many happy, wonderful things had happened since Hermione and she had fallen in love.

Sensing the sudden change in mood from Bella, Hermione reach up and cupped her wife's soft, pale cheek in her hand. "I mean it, Bella. I will always love you, no matter what age does to your body. I love _you. _Always."

Swallowing hard, Bella closed her eyes against the uncomfortable prickling that had begun and leaned down her kiss her wife's lips. "And I love you," she whispered against them. "Always."


End file.
